


Chained and Bound (To This Hopeless Town)

by Primira



Series: Anna and the Apocaylpse au [1]
Category: Anna and the Apocalypse (2017)
Genre: AATA, Anna and the Apocalypse - Freeform, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fearplay, Flashbacks, G/T, GT, Giant/Tiny, Gore, Hurting characters gives me that serotonin, John is such a good boy I love him, Minor Injuries, Panic, Shrinking, Soft Vore, Swearing, Vore, Zombies, but everything hurts, extreme cuddling, g/t vore, giant tiny - Freeform, gt vore, nothing fatal, oblivious pred, safe vore, unwilling prey, vore fic, zombie fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Primira/pseuds/Primira
Summary: Good things happen to bad people. Bad things happen to good people. Which must mean Anna Shephard must be the best fucking person to have ever lived, or, at least, the best person left alive. Lucky her. To be fair, she hasn’t got much competition. As far as she knows, she, Steph, and Nick are the only people still alive.  After a year of fighting off the undead, struggling to come to terms with her new reality, Anna is suddenly thrown back into the midst of her past without so much as a warning. Old friends, old faces, and old fears all resurface, along with zombies that seem to be getting smarter with every new day. So much for a warm welcome…
Relationships: Anna Shepherd/John
Series: Anna and the Apocaylpse au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607212
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	1. A Not-So-Happy Reuinion

**Author's Note:**

> CO-written with @that-one-fandom-vore-blog on Tumblr (they're amazing please check them out)
> 
> Also, check out Anna and the Apocalypse, it's highly underrated.

“Out of all the places for the damn engine to freeze up, it’s here?!” Anna shouted as she swung herself out of the car, slamming the blue painted door shut behind her for good measure. She could practically feel Nick and Steph looking at her as she stalked to the front of the car, looking helplessly down at the blue hood as if she could convince it to start up with a glare. It had been running just fine— fine enough, for the clunker it was— three bloody seconds ago, but now, fucking now, the engine had finally quit. 

Anna scuffed a shoe on the ground before delivering a swift, sharp kick to the blasted thing’s tire, hard enough to send a jolt up through her foot. “Fuck,” she hissed under her breath, then again, louder: “FUCK!” 

Drawing back her foot, she kicked the vehicle again. Harder, this time, squarely on the side of the door with a dull thump with enough force to chip the paint. 

“You don’t have to blame the car,” Steph huffed, coming to stand beside Anna with her hands stuffed firmly in her pockets. “Blame the snow— or the idiot,” she paused, giving Nick a pointed glare, “who was driving.” 

The glare she earned in return was almost as heated. “Oh, fuck off, Steph,” Nick shot back, “s’not my shitbox that got us stranded, anyway!” His volume rose dangerously at the end of his sentence, the words coming out in a near bark. 

Neither of the others dignified him with a response as his boots crunched in the snow, grumbling under his breath. It wasn’t worth trying to decode anything he said— Anna had dated him before, and if she was being honest, she’d rather date a zombie. He practically was one, anyway. 

_…he’s gotten better._

A year of travel had done the tensions in the group good, and besides, he didn’t eat brains.

Though… as Anna watched him pace in a circle around the hood, she was beginning to doubt he even had one in his thick skull. She’d definitely rather date a zombie, and where better to find one than Little Haven? That, as far as she knew, was where it had all started… 

Out of all the places to break down, why did the little blue shitbox have to pick here? 

Anna’s gaze drifted from the sight of Nick and Steph glowering at the engine, which was now starting to let off a good amount of smoke, to the surrounding countryside. There wasn’t much there to see, not really, but Anna didn’t need the visual. She could see it so perfectly in her mind’s eye, the snow stained with blood, the smoke rising in the horizon. She could feel it, too, feel raw terror curling in her chest like a poisonous snake and the feeling of another hand locked tight with hers, but then it was being pulled away and she was screaming, screaming with a voice that splintered and broke—

_**“JOHN!”** _

Her grip on the candy cane she called a weapon tightened. Her heart started to beat harder in her throat, like when she’d watched— she’d just watched— as her best friend was—

_Do. **Not**. Think. About. That. _

Snapping back into the present, trying to force those thoughts out of her head— thoughts of gentle eyes and bloodied screams— Anna crossed her arms and watched with a clenched jaw as the other two bent over the hood. Steph had popped it open, and although Nick looked like he wanted to help, Anna knew Steph wouldn’t be letting him anywhere near the engine. 

Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she began to saunter over. She held the plastic candy cane in a too-tight grip, though, managed to look as casual as she could. Her breath formed a cloud in front of her face as she carefully stepped closer, squinting over Nick’s shoulder to see what the problem was. 

…whatever the problem was. 

Was a car’s engine supposed to look so black? 

The whole thing smelled like gasoline, though, and she was quick to cover her nose against the stench. 

“Fuck,” she intoned again, slamming one hand down on the hood for good measure, loud enough to make Nick jump back in fright. “Fucking— god— how come it had to be here?” She moaned, unable to keep her voice from sounding far too sharp. “This has got to be the WORST place on earth—”

“Yeah, and screaming about it when there could be zombies around is a great idea!” Nick cut in, shuddering violently in the cold. “S’fucking freezing, Anna, and there’re more important things to worry about than the fact that the ruddy car broke down, alright?” 

“What? Am I not allowed to be upset that the moment we get back into this shitty little town in the middle of winter, we get stranded. And now you’re just standing there!” Her gaze flicked down to the weapon hanging loyally at his belt, and she gestured blindly at it. “Being all ‘at least I got a cool gun now’ as if that’ll help us! News flash, asshole, it won’t! Not unless it’s loaded with screws!” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steph flinch. 

“It’s like you’ve never even seen a car before—” she tried to joke, though, Nick’s voice was louder. 

"At least I’m not screeching about it!” He hissed at Anna, who looked like she was going to beat him with her candy cane as he stalked closer. She felt like beating him with her candy cane, come to think. It’d be satisfying to just bash his head in and—

She barely realized she was raising the lawn ornament until Steph stepped between them and raised a hand in Anna’s direction. Her eyes were narrowed in a glare, and although her tone was light, there was anger flickering just beneath its surface. 

“Hey ladies, why don’t we just focus on finding a place to stay rather than arguing who’s being the least productive?” She asked, seemingly immune to the glare Anna shot her way. Instead, she locked eyes with the taller girl. Her hand came back to rest at her side, though, not before scrubbing over her face. “Look,” she started, taking a step back to stand before them, “this is ass, but you don’t have to be assholes about it, okay? So shut the fuck up, let’s ditch the car,”

“Shitbox,” Nick corrected. 

Steph pinched the bridge of her nose and inhaled sharply. She looked almost ready to snap, though, as the engine belched out another thick plume of smoke, she sighed. “Shitbox…” she corrected, glumly, turning her eyes to the still-steaming engine as she continued, “and find somewhere where we won’t get eaten alive, okay?”

Anna didn’t answer. 

Nick shuffled his feet. 

Again, Steph sighed, heavier and harsher. “Okay?” She tried again, elbowing Nick hard in the ribs for emphasis. 

“Fine, fine, okay— just keep your hands off me!” He sputtered, annoyance written across his face. The snow crunched under his weight as he stepped to the side, crossing his arms tightly against his chest. “So what’s the plan, then?” 

All eyes turned to Steph. 

The silence that fell was somehow worse than the argument. It was awkward, broken only by a few little sputters from the shitbox’s engine trying dogeddly to start. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that!” She protested, though, after a moment of silence and a kick delivered to the ground, she exhaled heavily. “What about the school?”

Anna stiffened, but before she could speak, Nick shook his head.

“No. Too risky. After Savage let those fuckers in, they probably got stuck inside,” he explained. “And voila, zombie motel.”

Steph set her jaw. “What about an actual motel?”

A snort escaped Anna. “A literal zombie motel. Check-in at the front desk, gotta be out by ten, don’t mind the bellhop, he bites.”

It sounded funnier in her head. It came out too sharp, too sarcastic, and was met with an awkward sort of silence. 

She coughed and looked up at Nick. “This whole town’s gonna be completely infected.”

“It’s been a year,” he returned, evenly.

“Great.” Anna’s cold glare only intensified as she started speaking again. “A year for all those things to get hungry and fester. You’d need a bunker if you didn’t want to—“

In a flurry of motion, Nick gave a shit-eating grin and snapped his fingers. “A bunker!” 

Anna couldn’t help but snicker. “What, you know where one is? Got one in your backyard?”

Nick’s grin only grew. His chest puffed out with pride and as Anna watched, he put his arms to the sides. “The military base! It probably has backup generators, or at least of a lot of stuff that we can burn. Won’t smell great or anything, but the army’s fucked off from there, so the place is ours.” 

"Holy shit, you’re right!” Steph exclaimed. Nick’s enthusiasm was contagious, apparently. The short blonde gave a laugh of disbelief. “We could probably get there before dark, if we really hoof it.” 

Anna looked up to the sun where it sat in the sky and squinted for a moment through the clouds before giving a small, apprehensive nod. “Okay,” she huffed out, before giving a soft snicker. “Can’t believe we forgot we had an airbase. It’s practically on our doorstep.” 

Steph’s nose wrinkled. “It practically was on my doorstep,” she grumbled back, though, any irritation was masked with a crooked smile. “Military assholes had no concept of when was too early to be practicing their shooting.” 

As the trio began to march forward through the snow, Anna gave a snicker. “Yeah, reminds me of our asshole, here.” 

“Hey!”

Steph exhaled a laugh and shook her head, once again, moving to jab Nick in the ribs. “Quiet, remember? Don’t wanna attract any zombies.” 

“Yeah,” Anna agreed with a cheeky grin, “‘specially not because you’re firing that thing at the ass crack of dawn.” 

The three fell into an easy step together. If Anna squinted, she could almost pretend things were back to normal. It was just like they were hanging out during a snow day, really, with the small flakes that were beginning to fall and their breath fogging up the air. The snow had masked the town Anna remembered as Little Haven, masked the carnage and blood that had been there as they’d sped off in Steph’s bright blue shitbox.

They didn’t talk much, though, they didn’t need to. The place was a ghost town. Nothing seemed to move, not a zombie, nor another group of survivors. Little Haven had never been much— it was Little Haven, for fuck’s sake— but it seemed so much more barren than she’d remembered. 

Because you’re remembering it before everything went to shit. 

Those memories were getting blurrier. With everything she saw, every broken window, every unhinged door, they began to replace the thoughts of riding her battered bike down the streets. When things were better. Back when her and her father would make snow angels on the lawn, and John would be over, smiling that crooked smile and—

_Don’t._

She quickened her step. That was the last thing she needed to be thinking about. He was the last thing she needed to be thinking about. She didn’t need to think about his dreams, or how she felt when his arms were wrapped around her and the horde was converging, grabbing at him with their spindly fingers and—

_Fucking don’t._

Setting her jaw, Anna lowered her head and tried to focus on where they were going. 

“This place gives me the fucking creeps,” Steph commented, breaking the silence that had been steadily growing around them. 

Nick scuffed a boot against the snow. “Yeah, ditto,” he agreed. 

There was an awkward silence where Anna should’ve spoken, but instead, she slung her candy cane over her shoulder. The hard plastic resting on her shoulder was a small comfort. It kept her grounded, reminding her of the fact that Little Haven as she knew it was gone. She bumped it up against her shoulder between steps, harder with every second 

The sun had just begun to set as the group finally found the chain-link fence that surrounded the base. That sinking feeling that had accompanied Anna right from the start— that feeling she could only describe as Little Haven dread— had only gotten worse, and it intensified when she looked upward at the cold steel. 

“Shit…” She mumbled. 

She knew it wouldn’t be easy— it was a fucking military base, for Christ’s sake, it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Steph took her pack off her shoulder and began to sift through its contents. 

“I can’t fucking see anything,” Nick grumbled. “How am I supposed to—“

Steph hit him in the back of the head with a flashlight, ignoring the sharp yelp of protest she earned in response. “Here.” She snapped, passing another to Anna without making eye contact. Her gaze was fixed upward, and as Anna looked up as well, she saw what Steph was looking at.

Sharp spikes of barbed wire lined the top of the fence.

“So we’re not climbing,” As she spoke, Anna’s eyes began to travel along the length of the chain link, looking in vain for any sort of opening. Zombies wouldn’t be able to get in, she hoped, but neither would they…

The snow was piled high beside the posts, and just as Anna was trying to figure out if it was worth trying to climb—

“You just gonna stand there looking pretty?” 

Anna flinched. Her gaze shot to where Nick had been standing moments ago, though, as she flicked on the light, her brow furrowed. 

_Where—_

“Over here,” his voice came again, and as Anna tried to locate it, she turned her head back to the impossible fence—

To meet Nick’s gaze and cheeky grin from the other side. 

“Gate’s open,” he remarked, gesturing over to his right with his flashlight beam, swinging it at enough of an arc to momentarily blind Anna. 

Swinging one hand up in front of her face, squinting through a scowl, Anna managed to focus on the fence once more—

_Oh for fuck’s sake._

—and the obvious gap in it where the gate began. 

“You snuck in here, before?” Steph questioned, beginning to trudge forward with Anna behind her. Her pack jingled with every step, punctuated by the crunching of her boots and the steady swaying of her own, heavyset flashlight. It cut through the darkness with a wide beam that made the snow glitter. 

“No,” Nick returned, “I thought about it, though,”

“Should’ve,” Anna fired back, her shoulders tensing further with each step she took past the gate, “they would’ve turned you into swiss cheese.” 

The noise of mock protest she earned from Nick hit her with a wave of familiarity so sudden that it hurt. Swallowing hard against a sudden knot in her throat, Anna pushed ahead, reaching the door in a matter of minutes. 

The door, like the fence, was unhinged and hanging loosely open. Anna shared uneasy glances with the other two, but not a word was spoken as she pointed her flashlight beam into the dark interior. 

Rank air wafted out to greet her, sending a cold chill down her spine despite the warmth of the building. They filtered in single-file, Anna with her cane raised in one hand, Steph with her flashlight ready to bludgeon anything in the way, and Nick with his hands shakily clamped around his gun. 

Their beams, minus Nick’s, which only illuminated his pocket, shone outward in a wide fan, casting long, humanoid shadows that seemed ready to come off the walls and grab them. 

Anna shifted her grip on her cane. “We should split up,” she hissed out in a whisper, “cover more ground. Maybe if we’re lucky we can find a new engine or car, and hopefully, get out of here as soon as possible.” The last part of her sentence was lost in a whisper, more to herself than either of the others. 

_Get out._

_Like John never did, because he’s dead— he died here, did you think about that, Anna—_

“Sure,” Nick’s voice cut in, breaking her out of her thoughts, “I’ll take…” He looked to Anna, who shrugged. 

“Doesn’t matter to me,” she shifted her weight before turning her light to the nearest hallway, “you can take that one, I’ll…” She hesitated, before turning right. “I’ll take this one. Steph, you can take the one on the left. Meet back up in… an hour?”

She shone her flashlight back toward the group in time to see them both share nods. She found herself bobbing her head in agreement as well. For a moment, she wanted to say something else. The air was charged, not tense, mind, but there was an energy that couldn’t be denied. She could feel it— feel it in the tight feeling in her chest and the fact that she was digging the plastic hook of her cane deep into her shoulder. 

“An hour,” she said, uneasily, and before she could try saying anything else, she turned sharply to the right and disappeared down the hallway. 

Her footsteps seemed far too loud. Anna trudged through the halls cautiously, trying to see with her barely working flashlight in one hand and candy cane at the ready in the other.

It didn’t take her long to stumble upon a barely-open door. She quietly opened it with her shoulder, clutching both items tightly. The light weakly shone on the room’s contents, only illuminating a few feet before her. She squinted, daring to stick her arm into the room a little farther in and shining the light from side to side. It was reflected on a few objects she couldn’t make out, and for a moment, it looked like eyes—

_Remember when you thought it was safe and it wasn’t? Remember who paid for it?_

—it wasn’t eyes. 

She _knew_ it wasn’t eyes. 

Inhaling through her teeth, Anna squared her shoulders, and stepped inside. 

It wasn’t what she was expecting. As she swept the light’s flickering, shaky beam around in a wide circle, she was made aware of shelves surrounding her in neat rows, and their contents. Vials upon vials of contents. Their labels were scratched and worn, and as Anna squinted at a vial containing a bright, ugly yellow liquid, she felt a chill wind down her spine. 

It was weird, how everything was just… left like this. 

Some places looked completely fine, like the untouched vials. It was nothing new, truly, everywhere was a ghost town now that everyone was dead, but it still made unease creep across Anna’s skin like a cold wind. 

Shuddering, she began to walk down the rows of shelves, paying less attention by the second to the vials decorating them. What use were a bunch of random chemicals, anyway? What use were—

The hook of her cane bumped against a shelf with a sharp clang, causing Anna to let out a sharp yelp. 

“Shit!” She hissed, swinging her light around in time to see a vial wobbling. The liquid inside it was red, and although it quickly settled back down, she didn’t move the light away. Beside it lay a stack of papers. They were tucked messily in place beside it, dog-eared and yellowed, but still intact. 

Carefully, Anna reached forward and took the packet in her hands, carefully setting the cane up against the nearest shelf to better leaf through the hand-scrawled notes. Her breath stuck in her throat when she finally managed to decipher what it said. 

**UNIDENTIFIED PATHOGEN CURE PROTOTYPE TESTING: TRIALS 1-10**

“I knew they were working on a cure,” she whispered to herself, both excitement and anger filtering through her voice. 

_Dad could’ve made it._

_John, too._

_Nobody would’ve had to die… not Chris… not Lisa…_

Even thinking their names made her heart sink. 

Anna grabbed the packets, already planning out how to best tell Steph and Nick what she’d found— how maybe, maybe things could finally go back to how they’d been— when something cut through the noise of her thoughts.

A clumsy, sluggish shuffling cut through the silence, followed by a low, feral growl. 

The papers tumbled from her grasp before she could stop them, though, she barely noticed. Already, she was shoving her flashlight in her pocket, grabbing her weapon, and beginning to raise it. Her steely gaze was fixed on the door she’d come in through, listening in tense silence as the shuffling drew closer… and closer… 

When it finally entered her line of sight, it was alone. Just one. Nothing she couldn’t deal with. Already, she was readying herself to swing, but—

Recognition flashed across her face. 

Her stomach dropped. 

_No._

It was wearing a tattered sweater, smeared with blood and torn in spots, but—

_No, please, no…_

If the brown hair and soft face didn’t give it away, that Christmas sweater with the tree and lights did. 

Her best friend. 

One of her _only_ friends. 

John. John Pine. Still wearing that sweater he’d been so proud of, the one that devoured batteries by the dozen. His head was cocked harshly to the right, though, as Anna tried to back away, it began to straighten out. 

The second those eyes— deep brown, just like she remembered— met her own, the creature gave a little snort of excitement and began to stumble in her direction with its— his—deadened gaze fixed on hers. 

“No…” Anna’s voice was soft and shaky. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room— like it had been sucked out entirely. Her hands felt clammy. Her heart was beginning to beat like a kickdrum, thumping through her veins at a rapid tempo. “No, please, John… don’t do this,” she begged, trying her best not to let her voice break. 

John didn’t register anything she was saying. If anything, he was growling louder by the second, an awful, grating noise that rose above the panicked rushing of blood in her ears. It was barely human— hardly a noise she could ever picture him making— but it was escaping his throat regardless as he shuffled closer and closer to his potential meal. His gait was shambling, closer to a limp than the goofy stride Anna remembered—

_He was limping before it happened, don’t you remember? He fucked up his leg and then—_

Anna gripped her candy cane tighter. She had to kill him. If she didn’t, then he’d rip her to pieces. Zombies were vicious— all of them were vicious beyond repair, they were hardly human anymore— 

_But John isn’t—_

The creature before her gave another throaty growl. His whole body seemed to wobble unsteadily, as if he couldn’t decide which direction to walk, or if he could even walk at all. Everything about him was wrong, clashing so horribly with how she remembered him. She was frozen to the spot, looking into those eyes that were so familiar it hurt, those same eyes she’d looked into before the horde had converged on him and she’d screamed, screamed so loud her throat had hurt—

“JOHN!”

Struggling to inhale, Anna began to back away. She kept her weapon raised, the wicked, plastic hook up over her shoulder, trying to ignore the way her hands trembled and the fact that the memory was rising in her mind faster than she could hope to block it out. 

_**“LET GO! L-LEMME GO—”** _

_Another set of arms wrapped around her. She tried to beat them back, her body shaking. Her hands were clenched in tight fists. Her legs kicked out wildly as she tried to get her footing, broken, terrified sobs catching in her throat._

_Nick’s voice was loud, but not louder than the noises, the sounds of a horde beginning to feast— **“No, Anna, no! Leave him!”**_

Her eyes welled with tears. She had to kill him. He wouldn’t want to live as a zombie. Living as a zombie wasn’t living at all, surely he’d known that, he’d had to have known that. Her only option was to swing but…

_**“Leave him.”** Nick had said again, ignoring the way her hands beat against his side. _

She couldn’t. Her grip loosened as she backed away at a faster pace than before. _Fuck_ , she was useless. 

She could feel her throat closing up as she tried to find an exit, not taking her eyes off the creature— _it’s not John, it’s not, stop pretending_ — shambling toward her. His head was cocked to the right, mouth slightly open, glossy eyes boring into her own. She felt her stomach lurch at the sight of dried blood smeared around his mouth, her insides turning to water. Bluish, broken veins decorated his cheeks, and when he gave another lurch, right hand swinging downward, her gaze tracked automatically to the vicious bite embedded in the back of his hand.

The same sort of bite that he’d use those crooked teeth to give her. 

“John?” She choked out in a whimper, frantically searching his eyes for any recognition. He was closer. There were only a few feet between them, and that distance was closing fast. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this, please…” Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she gathered what little courage she had left and screamed: “JUST GET OUT OF HERE—“

Anna’s back slammed against one of the shelves before she could process what was happening, barely having enough time to register, the various glass vials on the shelf began to crash at her feet. Chemicals splattered across her coat and shoes, and as she tried to stumble away, momentarily forgetting the zombie— 

Something crashed against the back of her head. Things went dark immediately.

They were quick to flicker back in a mess of disjointed sounds and messy colours that blurred and spun drunkenly around her. Spots were dancing across her vision, and as she blinked blearily and tried to focus on the overwhelming, dizzying sensations, she was made vaguely aware of something pooling around her. 

All over her, actually—

_Shit, my head—_

Everything was too slow. Raising one hand, frantically feeling her hair, she gave a sharp gasp as the feeling of something liquid—

Blood or chemicals—

Shit, both are bad—

And if the shelf fell—

With a wince, Anna struggled to get to her feet, feeling as though she was forgetting something, addled mind fighting to put it all together and—

_Wait, what about—_

“SHIT!” Anna’s eyes snapped open remembering the zombie in front of her, but she wished she never opened her eyes. Everything was… wrong… horribly wrong. Her frantic eyes shot to the shards that were around her feet— should’ve been around her feet— and the puddle that looked more like a small lake than anything. 

Her heart leapt into her throat. 

The shards littered around her, their wickedly sharp points glinting in the low light, were longer than her arms. They were longer than she was tall, which was impossible, and how—

How much had been in those vials? 

How hard had she hit her head? 

_This CANNOT be happening._

_I can’t be—_

A sudden sound from above caused her blood to run cold. 

_Shit._

Her hands felt clammy.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Frozen in place, whole body trembling, Anna shakily began to look up… up, up, up… 

Her heart plummeted to her shoes. Her grip on her plastic cane suddenly felt weak—

_At least I got something my size…_

She managed to think through her panic. Her face paled exponentially, all the strength she had draining from her in one fell swoop. She tried to open her mouth, to scream, to cry out, to beg for her life— anything— but no sound escaped her lips, save for a strangled squeak. 

_This can’t be happening._

He was huge. 

John had always been taller than her, that much was true, but the zombie before her was easily a giant. He didn’t seem to be looking directly at her, though, and as Anna watched, paralyzed by fright, she realized he didn’t seem to see her. His glassy eyes were out of focus, trained on the shards around her, and although he was growling— a horrid, awful sound that shook her to her core— it was quieter than before. Confused. 

Hope flickered to life in her chest. 

_Maybe he can’t see me._

Was it possible? Maybe his eyes had decayed enough that he wouldn’t bother with her, or maybe she was too small for him to care. She just had to get out of his way and then—

Another growl shook through her. Louder this time. 

_No—_

Her small victory was quickly cancelled out as suddenly, John’s eyes locked onto her form. His lips began to curl back in a snarl, showing off a dizzying array of teeth that used to smile the sweetest, most crooked smile—

A snarl vibrated through her chest. Panicked, Anna tried to stumble away, her fight or flight instinct finally kicking into high gear. Her little body chose flight. 

She stumbled forward, boots slipping in the puddle surrounding her. She skidded, terrified at how quickly the tables had turned— she’d been bracing herself to kill him and see his blood speckle the floor but now—

Anna tried to tighten her sweat-slicked grip on her weapon. Her vision was blurred, though the panic coursing through her veins was making things sharper. Everything was picking up to speed with her racing heart, and as she helplessly skidded, she could feel him getting closer. 

_No, no— NO—_

She couldn’t outrun him. She was too small, now, and her head was pounding with every second that passed. 

Panicked beyond belief, voice shaking, Anna forced herself to meet his gaze, looking in vain for anything familiar in those hollow eyes. “John—”

_That’s not John, he’s gone, he’s not there—_

“—p-please!” She stammered, “I-It’s me, it’s— it’s Anna! You— W-We— We’ve been friends for— for years, years, John, PLEASE—”

Her words broke into a scream as John lurched forward. Stumbling backward, brandishing her weapon as though it would help, Anna let out another broken plea. 

“NO! P-Please, John— you— you have to remember me, I— You— You were going to go to art school, a-and I was gonna go to Australia—”

It seemed like a distant dream. Australia. Art school. Things that had mattered before the world as they knew it had ended without any warning. 

Her throat began to close up. She sucked in a sharp, frantic breath through her teeth, trying to say something— anything— that wouldn’t end in her demise—

He reached forward. That hand— that monstrous, discoloured hand riddled with bluish veins— was inches from her, and the distance was closing. 

“Y-You jumped in front of a horde just to save my life!” 

_Do you remember his hands around your waist? When you were calling to him? He wasn’t answering._

The hand less than a centimeter from her face. Instinctively, she put her hands up to her face and gave a sharp, guttural cry: “PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!”

He would rip her to pieces in seconds. He’d use those same clumsy hands she knew so well to tear her from limb to limb, those teeth would pierce her, and her blood would speckle the floor and—

She screwed her eyes shut tight for good measure at the crunch of glass under one of his feet coupled with the sliding of fabric across the floor. 

_He’s kneeling._

Her stomach twisted in a knot. She had seconds left to live, seconds left to muster a final plea, or an attack, or even an escape, but—

A soft, rumbling noise rolled through the air, close enough to make her whole body buzz with the sound, then… 

Then, nothing. 

Nothing at all. 

…what?

Anna slowly lowered her hands, after a few quiet, tense moments. Her breathing was quick and sharp. Why… why was she still alive? 

Why hadn’t he killed her? 

His hand was still there, his huge fingers poised and ready to snatch her up without a second thought, but—

They hadn’t. 

_He_ hadn’t. 

Questions began to swarm in her mind, but above them was one desire: to get away. 

Stumbling under her own weight, Anna made it about three steps back before a shard of glass met the bottom of her boot. It skidded along with her, prying a startled yelp from her throat and prompting her to swing her arms out for balance. 

John flinched. That hand that had been so close to brushing her skin shrank back. 

Anna’s mind was beginning to race as she looked into John’s eyes, her balance still somewhat wobbly. Her confusion was clearly written across her face. 

It didn’t make sense.

_Is he—_

She couldn’t let herself hope.

_No._

_Impossible. He’s probably just wondering if a small human is just as satisfying as a normal-sized human._

She didn’t want to believe it. Those eyes seemed lucid— they looked so much like his that it hurt. A knot formed in her chest. Her legs wobbled like those of a baby deer as she forced herself to keep her eyes locked on his, ignoring the fact that his veins were too prominent, his teeth almost unnaturally sharp. 

_He’s just sizing me up._

A cold chill spread across her body. Her instincts were screaming at her to run— he was frozen, for fuck’s sake— it would be easy enough to make a mad dash for cover, but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t force herself to move. Her fingers weakly twitched at her sides. She felt like she was going to throw up. 

Trying to stand, sitting up as well as she could, Anna felt her whole body sway unsteadily. The room spun in a nauseating fashion, everything around her blending in a mess of nonsensical swirls that immediately brought her back to her knees. 

_Shit, definitely concussed._

That was the last thought Anna had before that hand reached out to her again. Accepting her fate, Anna looked down, closed her eyes and hoped it would be quick, but… that moment never came as she noticed. She gave a small gasp at the feeling of something touching her, something cold and almost clammy that started at the top of her head and trailed its slow way down her back. She held her breath as it stopped, then repeated with a tad more certainty. 

It took several seconds for her to realize he was petting her. 

_Petting?_

_Why would a zombie—_

_Why hasn’t he hurt me yet?_

Daring to hope, Anna looked up, trying to get her vision to focus on the soft, concerned eyes of her friend. It seemed so familiar. She wanted so desperately to believe that he remembered her, but it was impossible… right?

Struggling to find her voice, Anna managed to quietly, incredulously ask: “Am I dead?” 

The petting stopped. Those eyes she knew so well were hidden by a slow blink for a moment, and then John did something that made her heart skip a beat. He shook his head. Like a human would. Like he was alive. 

Anna’s eyes widened. “Wha— c-can you—

_Slow down._

Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “—do you remember me?” She asked him, hardly daring to hope. It was probably just a twitch, and her size had distracted him from thoughts of eating her, that had to have been it—

He nodded. That soft face she remembered sported a small, crooked little smile that she could recognize anywhere. Twitchy and uncertain, sure, but there. 

Before she knew it, she was sobbing. All of the anger, sadness and regret she held for the past year overwhelmed her. Her throat ached from having shouted at the creature before her, her sobs coming out in hoarse sounding barks. Her tears ran down her cheeks faster than she could try to wipe them away. She was vaguely aware of a soft, concerned grumble and forced herself to look up again through her tears. 

“N-No, I— It’s not your fault, I— oh my god, John—”

Another bout of wracking sobs made her chest ache, causing John to pull his hand away. His brow was furrowed, his eyes tracking her every move. 

Anna tried to wipe her eyes and gave a broken laugh. “I-I’m just so glad to see you again after all this time!” 

Glad was an understatement. Her legs wobbled as she forced herself upright, stumbling toward his hand unsteadily. “A-And you— you remember me, you— it’s really you, I—” She swallowed hard against the knot in her throat. “—I can’t believe this, I— what’re the odds?” 

One in a million. One in a billion. Less, even. 

Laughing again, close enough to his hand that she could’ve reached out for it if she wanted, Anna finally caught her breath. The adrenaline— that giddy rush that had surged through her— was fading. “The only thing that could make this any better would be if I… was…” 

_Wait—_

“Normal sized!?” Her voice took on a sharp lilt of confusion as, yet again, another reality crashed down on her like a ton of bricks. “Holy shit, what the fuck happened to me?!”

She watched John’s shoulders give an unsteady shrug. 

“I— How—” 

It must’ve been that cure. The vials she’d knocked over her had done it, but how it had happened was beyond her—

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sensation of John’s fingers curling around her waist. A breath caught in her throat. She gave a sharp, frightened gasp and clung tight to her weapon, the ground suddenly so, so small. His whole body swung uncertainty, and although his fingers weren’t too tightly clasped around her, Anna’s chest felt too tight. Her head was still throbbing away. She couldn’t find her voice. 

_Shit, no—_

_He wouldn’t. John wouldn’t—_

But a zombie would. 

Fear began to spike through her, but she managed to give a small whimper of: “J-John?” Using her free hand to bat at his fingers, she tried to grab his attention, but all she earned in response was a little grumble. Her whole world pitched dangerously as he stood, causing her to squeak. This was terrifying. She was so high up— John had always been tall but this was taking things to a new level. One hand wrapped tight around her cane, the other in a tight fist, Anna felt her stomach lurch as he got to his feet. 

_Christ_ , they were high up. 

Anna managed to get in a sharp breath before John’s grip on her abruptly switched, depositing her on the surface of his palm. A small rumble shook through her, and as she looked up, she nearly yelped. He was so close, close enough for her to feel his breath. 

_Zombies breathe?_

She’d never been close enough to find out— nobody ever had, without getting bitten or ripped to shreds, but as the seconds ticked forward, she realized that John was just… watching. He didn’t blink, but his warm eyes were trained on her, his brow slightly furrowed. 

She exhaled. 

_It’s fine._

_You’re fine._

“Right, o-okay, I—” Shakily, standing as well as she could, she turned her head and forced herself to look down at the mess she’d created. The liquid looked almost like blood puddling around his feet, and as she squinted—

_Wait—_

The papers she’d dropped weren’t soiled by the puddle. They were a little crumpled, splashed in spots, but otherwise fine. 

_A cure. They were working on a cure._

Turning back to face John, she gestured down to the papers on the floor. “Can you grab those papers?” She asked him, continuing to explain as he tilted his head and focused his bleary eyes down where she’d pointed. “Th-They were testing all this shit so it’s gotta be recorded. There’s gotta be a way to reverse this!” 

Both the zombie thing and her reduced height… 

Clinging to John’s thumb for balance as he bent over, Anna watched him fumble with the papers for a moment before—

A growl shot through the silence, followed by another.

John’s hackles raised near instantly and he stood back up with the papers in his grasp with a sudden, jerky motion that caused Anna to yelp. 

“Shit, the vials!” 

Of _course_ they’d heard the crash— _fuck_ , she was an idiot— and now they were going to come and rip them to shreds—

Would they attack John? He was one of them, and maybe that would keep him safe, but Anna certainly wasn’t, and now that she was bite sized—

_Shit._

“We gotta go!” She urgently instructed, earning herself a nod from John. 

She didn’t do a thing to protest as he carefully drew her closer to himself and began to take one limping, shuddering step after the other. Was it fast enough? Her mind was racing from one panicked thought to the next, and the speed of them only intensified with every step he took toward the still-open door. 

_Please, please, c’mon…_

She inwardly begged, holding John’s thumb in a deathgrip, trying to see if anything was coming their way. 

They were mere inches from the door when the first zombie made itself known, lurching so suddenly into their field of vision that Anna let out a shrill scream and shrank backward. Its lips were pulled back, thick, black strands of drool oozing from its open jaws, and it wasn’t alone. More and more began to pour through the entrance in a swarm, some of them still sporting military garb. 

_No, no, please—_

John began to growl, the noise low and grating, making Anna’s ears ring and her headache thump harder. His grip on her shifted. 

Hundreds of scenarios began to race through Anna’s mind, each one more brutal than the last. There wouldn’t be any escape, and they didn’t seem interested in John at all. She’d been reunited with him for nothing, and soon, she’d either be one of them or nothing more than a red stain on the floor, and nobody would ever know—

Before her thoughts could even finish, John’s fingers once again closed around her waist and she was suddenly lifted, that nauseating feeling of being picked up too fast causing her head to spin. Trying to focus, legs swinging wildly, cane nearly slipping from her hands, she realized she was being dangled above John’s face. 

More specifically, his mouth. Her panicked gaze met his own. 

“J-John,” she stammered, “what’re you—”

She was cut off by the intimidating sight of John’s mouth opening beneath her, those teeth that seemed inhumanly sharp mere inches from her feet. She barely registered the thunder of his voice, though, once his maw was closed, she processed the one word he’d managed to wheeze out.

“Safe…” Even though voice was thick and gravelly, like he had just had woken up dehydrated, she understood. 

But… what did he mean, “safe”? 

Heart lurching into her throat, Anna struggled to cling onto his fingers. “Wait, wh-what are you talking abou—” Anna didn’t have any time to wonder what John meant before, without warning, his loose grip on her was gone entirely.

Down she plummeted.

A strangled scream escaped her throat. She looked down, and as she was being dropped—

His jaws opened to greet her, wider than before, displaying in horrific detail the inside of his maw and his pink, quivering tongue. 

“JOH—”

The rest of her protest was lost in a wheeze as her little body hit a slick, foreign surface. She hardly had time to register what was going on before her surroundings went dark with a snap that caused her to let out a shriek and ball up. Her body was shaking, and as she forced herself up onto her hands and knees, she nearly lost her balance. The ground below her—

_That’s not the ground, that’s his tongue, you’re in his MOUTH—_

—shifted and slid as she frantically tried to process what had happened. There wasn’t much light, but it filtered between his lips enough for her to see the faint, pinkish tongue beneath her and the terrifying, pointed shapes of his teeth fencing her in. Her heartbeat was rapid, her breaths short and laboured. 

_Why—_

_Why did he—_

_I thought he wouldn’t—_

Was it a trap? Anna felt like she was going to be sick as the muscle beneath her shifted, sending her sprawling onto her front once more. Saliva was pooling around her little frame, and as she struggled to get up— to claw and punch and kick everything she could reach— an annoyed sort of grumble rang through the space, loud enough to make Anna clap her hands over her ears. The tongue beneath her curled slightly, the edges of it pushing on her sides and keeping her confined to the middle of his mouth despite her squirming. 

The noises it made were making her repulsion grow by the second. The muscle squelched beneath her weight, and there was another annoyed little grumble before something smacked against her side. Something hard and plastic. 

_My cane!_

Rolling sharply to the side, Anna snatched it up and moved to stab him with the sharpened end, trying her best to stand in the cramped space. She ended up bent awkwardly in place, her shoes sinking into the fleshy surface beneath her, her back pressed up against the roof of his mouth above her. 

Bracing herself, Anna tried to force his jaws open from the inside to no avail. Saliva dribbled down her sides in thick strands, enough to make her shudder violently. She began to shove at the surface above her harder, digging her nails in—

Everything pitched hard to the right. Anna’s legs gave out from under her, and clutching her candy cane tight against her chest, she landed on his tongue with a squelch, giving a sharp gasp when everything turned to the left, then right again, almost as if he was shaking his head. 

_Shit, my head._

The throbbing feeling was getting worse by the second. Struggling, landing a good hit with her heel to the flesh beneath her, Anna moved a hand to clutch at her wet hair. 

_This concussion isn’t going to get any better if he keeps doing that, not that it’ll matter if he doesn’t let me out!_

When she pulled her hand away, thin strands of drool connected it to her head. Her hair was practically slicked down to her, and as her eyes adjusted to the dim, faint light filtering through his teeth, she realized the rest of her was hopelessly soaked as well— her jacket, her shirt, her tie— covered in saliva. 

_What the fuck—_

_Is he—_

_Is he fucking TASTING ME?_

Terror surged through her once more, though, it was quickly followed by a rage that bubbled over her and made her ball her hands into fists. “JOHN!” She shouted, bringing a fist down as hard as she could manage on the tongue beneath her, “LET ME OUT! I KNOW YOU’RE STILL IN THERE! PLEASE, PLEASE SNAP OUT OF IT!” 

For a moment, everything stopped. 

She lay there, panting, covered in spit and feeling absolutely disgusting as the surface beneath her curled over her side once more. 

“John, please…” She whimpered, moving to crawl further toward the front of his mouth. All he’d have to do was open up his mouth, and she’d be home free— 

Before she could say anything else, Anna was suddenly pressed against the roof of the mouth, squishing all the air out of her in a sharp wheeze. 

_No, NO, NO NO NO—_

Everything tilted back. Anna dug her fingers into the surface of John’s tongue in vain, panic rushing through her veins. She kicked and squirmed wildly, though, with a soft squelch, she felt the muscles of his throat begin to latch onto her legs. 

Her eyes widened. 

A deafening gulp muffled her scream. She was forced back faster than she could grab anything. Her desperate, reaching hands skimmed one of his huge teeth before disappearing into his gullet entirely. The light disappeared instantly, and although Anna couldn’t see, she could still feel the powerful muscles of his esophagus engulfing her tiny frame. 

“NO!” She was forced downward at a rapid, terrifying pace. Her arms were pinned up above her head, and with each tug from the slick muscles, more slimy substances connected with her body. 

“NO, N-NO, JOHN—”

Another swallow cut her off, the muscles around her squeezing the air out of her lungs and making the panic coursing through her intensify. She could barely move. The darkness was smothering her, alive, squeezing her every inch of the way down—

Her legs were free. 

Eyes widening, knowing what it meant but refusing to believe it, Anna tried one more time to claw at the walls of his throat, but it didn’t matter. 

With a final squeeze from his gullet, Anna dropped onto a cushy surface. She managed to land on her knees, her panicked eyes darting this way and that in the darkness. Everything was eerily still and quiet, the only thing she could hear the quick pounding of her heart.

He couldn’t have.

Her chest felt heavy. Slime dribbled down the back of her neck, making her shudder violently. 

Where else could she be? Her senses were on overdrive. She was painfully aware of the feeling of sticky saliva clinging to her body, but also aware of the noises surrounding her— soft gurgles and growls, uneven, shaky breaths, and—

A low thumping from above her. 

His heartbeat. 

_He just put me in and…_

God, she couldn’t even think it. 

_…like I didn’t even matter?!_

Her best friend— someone she’d thought was dead, had eaten her. Whole and alive. Her days— her minutes — her _seconds_ were numbered. How long did it take a zombie to digest? How long did she have to breathe the stale tasting air and wait for acid to melt her into nothing? 

A gurgle echoed through the fleshy chamber, loud enough to make Anna jolt and grasp her weapon—

_I still have it._

Without hesitation, she dug the pointed end of it into the stomach’s floor as hard as she could manage, standing on wobbly legs. She braced herself against it, driving it in deep before tugging it free with a sickening squelch. 

“NO!” She snarled, stumbling forward, ignoring the dizzy feeling that came with standing up, “I am not dying in some SHITTY TOWN,” she punctuated those words by driving the sharp end of the cane into the closest wall, “in some BROKEN DOWN BASE,” she pushed it in further, “where NO ONE WILL KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!” 

Running on sheer desperation, the shrunken survivor used what little strength she had left to drag the sharp tip through the wall of flesh, feeling her entire environment abruptly tense around her. A growl rolled through the space, making everything vibrate. 

It only encouraged her to continue. 

Removing the edge, Anna began beating him with the blunt end, hitting him over and over again as if the cane was a baseball bat. 

“If you want me to stop” she hissed through her teeth, “then LET! ME! OUT!” She hit him with every word, choking up slightly as she did.

Those three words suddenly made it all real. Her whole world began to crash down around her, the realization coupled with the churning motions of the stomach around her enough to bring her to her knees.

She was stuck in this horrible small town. She was in a worn down military base. Her friends wouldn’t know what happened to her. She was tiny. And she was in the stomach of one of her closest friends. 

Anna Shepherd was going to die. 

Her grip on the candy cane loosened to a point where it slipped from her fingers, though, she barely noticed as it hit the fleshy floor beside her. Her eyes began to sting from tears. There was no joy in them. Not this time. 

Alone in the dark, alone with the realization that John, her closest friend, the person she would feel safe to talk about anything around— the person who helped her through her mother’s death and always, always been by her side, the person she cared for the most—

Another organic rumble from the stomach around her sent a cold chill through her body. 

John was going to kill her, and nobody would ever know. 

As the adrenaline faded and her limbs grew weak and heavy, Anna began to curl into a ball, her hands shaking violently. She wanted to scream out to him, or hit him with the cane as hard as she could manage, maybe even carve her way out. If she just managed to claw hard enough, she could do it, couldn’t she? 

All she did was let tears trickle down her cheeks and curl up tighter. What else could she do?

She was alone. Stupidly alone. Had Nick or Steph been there, they would’ve been able to bludgeon him and this whole thing never would’ve happened. They wouldn’t just give up, either, they’d fight with everything they had and then some, but… 

She was so tired. Her head was pounding at a mile a minute, and her limbs felt so, so heavy. She was going to pass out, soon. 

_And I’ll never wake up again._

Before the darkness behind her eyes engulfed her limited vision of the soft walls surrounding her entirely, Anna managed to choke out a sentence so quiet, it sounded like a breath. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…” She whimpered. 

Then, there was nothing but the darkness and a low, slow heartbeat thudding above her. 


	2. Everything's (Not) Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CO-written with @that-one-fandom-vore-blog on Tumblr (they're amazing please check them out)
> 
> Also, check out Anna and the Apocalypse, it's highly underrated.

The repeated, muffled thumping that roused her from sleep was more than enough to cause Anna to let out a groan and curl up in place. 

“Fuck off…” She moaned under her breath, wincing at the matching thumping that sounded within her head, keeping her eyes stubbornly screwed shut against it. It was dull enough that she could pretend it wasn’t there, and as she shifted, trying once again to get comfortable, something felt… off.

Her brow furrowed as she struggled to recall where exactly she’d passed out for the night. The surface was soft, slightly damp beneath her skin, and the air was almost stale. Stuffy. Stagnant. It wasn’t cold, which was a small blessing, but as she shifted, she was made acutely aware of the warmth her body had left. 

“Where’m I?” She slurred slightly, still half asleep. 

Silence greeted her in return. Not so much as a huff of laughter from Steph or Nick.

Another low thud from above— above?— made everything around her seem to pulse.

_Is Nick firing off the roof?_

It was possible, though, as Anna thought about it further, she couldn’t help but frown.

_…the roof of what?_

_Shit_ , she was tired. 

Attempting to push herself up from the unfamiliar surface, Anna finally opened her eyes, even though it didn’t feel like it. Nothing had changed. Her surroundings were still entirely pitch black, so much so that as she raised a hand to push her bangs out of her face, she couldn’t see it. That certainly woke her up. She could feel her heart beginning to thrum faster in her chest as she looked around in the darkness, feeling around on the soft, damp floor in search of something familiar. 

“What… happened?” She muttered under her breath, trying to piece together what had happened. Her groggy, addled mind struggled to recall anything other than faint flashes, vaguely remembering the crash of glass, feeling something wet all over her, then a horrid pain in the space behind her eyes. 

Anna jerked upright. The sudden motion made fireworks go off in her skull, the dull pain suddenly worsening to a point where she doubled over. Her hands came up to clutch at her sopping, slick hair, fingers tracing circles over her temples in a desperate attempt to soothe the pain.

The darkness wasn’t helping her panic. Anna had expected her eyes to have adjusted after a few minutes, at least enough to see a window or a door, but… nothing.

“Shit, no,” she hissed under her breath, her throat sore enough to pull a sharp cough from her chest. It didn’t echo. “I can’t be blind from a…” 

Her brows pinched together, both in confusion and pain. What had happened? The memories were blurry, coming through in a mess of shapes and colours that didn’t make sense. She remembered being afraid, backing away from a lone zombie with her weapon raised. She remembered bumping the shelf behind her, then the crash… 

She swallowed heavily. “A concussion… right? Oh shit, please tell me I’m just in a— in a dark room!” 

That had to be it. Power sources were scarce ever since the apocalypse hit. They were probably in some shed, and Steph had probably opted to let her sleep through her injury, that was all. Though… it didn’t explain the cushy floor…

Breath catching in her throat, Anna began to dig through the— surprise surprise— damp pockets of her coat, trying to find her trusty flashlight. 

_Is it waterproof?_

The second her fingers closed around the cold metal, she drew it into the cold of the stagnant air around her and jammed her thumb down on the button.

Nothing happened.

_Shit._

Frustration coursing through her, Anna smacked it against her palm a couple of times, willing the damned thing to turn on.

“Okay, it’s okay, Anna,” she mumbled to herself in an attempt to keep herself calm, “just turn on the light and you’ll see where you are and everything will be all ri—“ Anna was silenced the second the faint light from the flashlight sparked to life and illuminated the area around her. 

Her heart stopped. 

_What…_

_What the fuck?_

Everything around her was a dull, greyish pink. The beam of her light reflected on the surface of the walls, highlighting the fact that they were dripping with some sort of slime. They shifted in place, too, and pulsed along with the slow, uncertain thudding from around her. A low gurgle rolled through the silence, loud enough to make Anna flinch. 

Gross. 

Brow furrowing, her confusion worsening by the second, Anna scanned the area around her with a critical gaze, trying her best to ignore the panic creeping through her veins. “Where… where in the hell…” Anna’s head pounded slightly as she tried to remember what happened.

Exhaling sharply, she drew her hands up in front of her, wincing at the sight of slick, translucent strands of slime connecting them to the surrounding area. “Think, okay? Just think. I was in a lab with papers on a possible cure? There was… shit, a zombie, and then…”

She couldn’t make the memories come. They’d been in the bunker, her, Steph, and Nick, and then they’d split up… 

_This doesn’t look like the inside of—_

In the limited light, a bit of discoloration caught Anna’s eye. A long, deep looking gash decorated the pinkish wall to her right. Swinging her flashlight to face it, Anna carefully began to scoot herself toward it. The surface beneath her sagged under her weight with a little squelch as she slid on her hands and knees, coming to a stop a few inches from it.

It was then that she noticed something dripping from it. Something deep red. It trickled in a slow, steady stream to puddle near her knees.

_Blood?_

_It looks like it, but… why would a wall bleed—_

She suddenly felt weak. Her hands, though already a little cold and slick with slime, felt clammy. 

_Oh my god._

_John._

The vials. The vials had hit her, but before that, the one person she never wanted to see had lurched his unsteady way into the room and then—

Everything had been so big. 

Anna’s heartbeat was beginning to race, her body tensing more and more with every detail that surfaced in her woozy mind. It was like she was looking at them through a pool, ripples causing the images to change and shift in a way that made her feel sick to her stomach.

He’d seemed lucid, lucid enough that he’d picked her up— in one hand, one freaking hand— but then—

_No._

_Oh, hell fucking no._

“No fucking way…” She managed to choke, swinging the light every which way in the darkness, desperately looking for some detail that would make those memories be some weird fever dream. The beam skirted fleshy, pinkish walls on all sides, no doors, no windows, nothing to show that it was just a poorly designed room, which meant—

A grumble shook through the chamber. 

Anna’s face paled. 

_No, fuck, please no._

“Oh. Oh fuck, this can’t be happening—” Her voice bordered on shrill as she tried to rationalize with the stale air around her. Maybe if she spoke aloud, Steph would grab her arm and wake her up from this nightmare, or Nick would kick her in the shins. She’d take being irritated at them over whatever hellish reality this was—

A strand of slime dribbled down her back. 

Her breath hitched in the back of her throat.

She’d found John again, after all this time, and he’d eaten her. 

Like nothing. 

_No, this isn’t fucking happening—_

Anna wanted so desperately to believe that she wasn’t where she thought she was, wasn’t in a place designed to break down and destroy, but as her breathing grew more frantic and she struggled to keep herself from trembling, she was made aware of a slow combination of noises resonating from above her. 

A heartbeat, steadily beating away, and uncertain, shaky breaths. 

If it was just the noises, she could’ve feigned ignorance. The dim light she held shook in her hands, and as it began to flicker, Anna knew she couldn’t deny the facts.

She was in the stomach of a zombie.

She was going to die.

The second the little glow fizzled out, Anna didn’t move an inch. She felt numb. How long had she been in his stomach? How long had she been asleep? How long until the digestive acid his body would produce would make her melt? 

It probably hadn’t happened yet because he was a zombie, that was it. Their bodies must work slower, which meant that she had…

Her head was starting to throb, the pain knife sharp and piercing every spare spot inside her skull. Tears pricked at her eyes.

_Damn it._

_Don’t you **dare** cry._

Stubbornly wiping one away, Anna inadvertently smeared a thick glob of spit across her cheek. 

Another bout of tears caused her to drop her flashlight to the ground—

_Not the ground, it’s in the bottom of John’s stomach, just like you—_

–beside her and clap a hand over her mouth. It was too much. Despair shot through her, and try as she might to convince herself to find her cane— it was in there with her, she knew— she couldn’t force her body to do anything other than tremble weakly. 

“Why…” she whimpered, turning her eyes above her as if he’d hear her better— as if he’d even dignify her with a response when she was in such a place as a stomach. His stomach.

Lowering her hands, she dug her nails into her palms. Her gaze didn’t move from the fleshy ceiling above her.

“Why would you do this? I thought— I thought we were— I thought we were friends!” Her voice broke, though she continued forcing the words out. She couldn’t just stop— they poured out of her at an increasing volume. Tears dribbled down her cheeks. “Answer me!” She shouted, slamming a fist into the bottom of his stomach. “I— I know you can speak! Why did you— how could you just… how could you EAT ME?”

Her words exploded like gunfire in the slimy space surrounding her, and when she stopped to breathe, shaking hard from anger and fright, her breath was used for a sob. 

It was silent again.

_Of course._

A voice in her head pointed out. 

_Nobody talks to their food._

She shrank back reflexively. Her knees bumped against her chest in the dark, and when her flashlight diligently rolled to the space beside her, she tucked it into her pocket. 

Seeing where she was would only make it so much worse. 

Scooting so her back was pressed flat against one of the slimy walls, head buried in her knees, Anna wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth. 

None of this made any sense. He’d seemed so lucid— he’d seemed like her friend, like someone she cared for when the world was a different, brighter place. Had she meant so little to him this whole time? She was barely even a light snack— she didn’t take up much room at all. She probably didn’t make a dent.

She curled up tighter. 

All she could hear was her own breathing, her rapid heartbeat, and John’s ever-steady inner workings surrounding her and making her feel so, so small. 

_All I can do is wait._

_Maybe it’ll be quick._

_Maybe I’ll pass out or something,_

_Or maybe I’ll waste away in here forever and then—_

The wall behind her moved. 

Anna’s blood turned to ice. 

_No, please… please don’t…_

_I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna die…_

She couldn’t say it. Instead, she hugged her knees tight and waited for the end. At least the repetitive motion was distracting, trailing from the top of her head down her back. 

It would be over soon. Minutes passed in tense, terrified silence, and at each little groan from the organ around her, Anna would brace for the end. 

But nothing happened.

Slowly Anna began to recognize the gentle, repetitive motions. 

_Is he…_

_Petting me?_

It certainly felt like it, and the outward pressure didn’t cease as she carefully lifted her head.

 _Of course he is,_ that little voice in her head cut in, _why wouldn’t he be glad he found such an easy meal?_

Although her heartbeat was still far too loud and her breaths far too quick, Anna gradually became aware of other noises. Sure there was the slow breathing and slow heartbeat, but beyond that, a new sound started. 

A deep, throaty rumble. 

A growl. 

John was growling. 

Anna’s mind began to race again. Was it contentment? Was that what it was? Contentment at having doomed her to die? 

_But…_

_That’s not what it sounds like…_

True, it surrounded her on all sides and was terrifyingly low, but it didn’t sound… pleased. More concerned, than anything.

_Why?_

_If he’s so concerned, why doesn’t he just let me out?_

Wanting so badly to believe her friend wouldn’t hurt her, she uncurled slightly and called out again.

“J-John?” She croaked, flinching as the rumbling grew louder until she realized what it was. An acknowledgment. He hadn’t forgotten her. 

Swallowing shakily, knowing every word would count for something, Anna wrung her hands together and hopelessly looked upward. “Please John, I-I don’t want to die, please let me go.” Shouting hadn’t gotten her anywhere, and it wasn’t like she had the energy to do so, anyway. Her throat hurt, though, she forced herself to raise her voice and call out to him again. “John, I… I know you’re in there, p-please…” 

For a moment, the petting stopped. Her heart began to race, the absence of the motion enough to cause her to stiffen. 

_Shit, I did something wrong and now—_

A sound so familiar that it hurt caught her off guard, silencing her thoughts with a single, broken syllable. A voice. His voice. It was low, sure, and gravelly, but as the gentle pressure returned, she knew she’d heard him right. 

“An…” he murmured, stopping and giving a low growl before trying again, “A-Anna… safe…”

_What?_

She wanted to let out a scream of frustration, though, she kept it trapped behind her lips. What the hell did he mean, safe? Did he have any idea how much danger she was in? She didn’t have much longer, she knew, her oxygen would run out, o-or acid would flood into his stomach and she’d be a goner—

Though…

Zombies had to have slower systems, right? Maybe it would change and she’d be ended so quickly she wouldn’t even be able to scream and—

_Stop thinking like that._

She wanted to believe him. 

He’d said that before jamming her into his mouth and swallowing her like some inconsequential snack. She’d been terrified, sure, but…

Nothing had happened. Not even a little tingling, though Anna knew without looking that her hands were soaked in spit and slime. It dribbled down her arms as she slowly, slowly moved to push against the outward pressure of his hand on her side, shaking slightly. Her palm sank into the wall, the faint warmth causing a chill to run down her spine. Breath hitching, she curled her fingers in and gave the lining a squeeze. 

“A-Are you saying I’m safe in here?” She stammered, inwardly pleading with any god that would hear her that she was right—

A noise like a happy engine starting up shook her to her core. The petting returned, more enthusiastic this time. 

Anna’s heart felt like it would burst. Her whole body sagged with relief against the wall, her lanky limbs stretching out to fill up more of the space. She wasn’t going to die. She was safe. Safe, in here, of all places. Inside a zombie, in a creature that, as far as she knew, would have been vicious and tore her to shreds. 

But John was different. 

Thank _fuck_ John was different. 

As Anna’s heart rate slowed and her terror began to fade, her body sliding farther down against the wall. It sagged behind her, almost like a hammock, and as she gathered her thoughts, she carefully brought her hand down in a stroking motion behind her. 

“Did you… did you do this to keep me away from the horde?” She asked, quietly, “So that they didn’t know I was here?” When John made the same sound, along with the same petting motion, Anna felt herself untense and lean into the rubbing. 

_John would never lie to me._

He’d been a terrible liar. Even when he was alive, he’d been so bad at it that she’d seen through him instantly, like when he’d tried to tell Mr. Savage he was sick… 

Giving a soft, disbelieving laugh, Anna carefully fished her flashlight out of her pocket and smacked it against her palm a few times, squinting against the sudden light it cast on her surroundings. She wasn’t going to die, somehow, she was still alive, so now… 

Now the pinkish walls didn’t seem all that threatening. 

Anna’s gaze wandered to the wall she’d hurled her abuse at when she’d first landed in his belly. The wall seemed irritated, puckered a little against the deep slit she’d left with her cane. It was still bleeding, a slow, reddish trickle of blood that made its way down the grooves of the wall to puddle with whatever liquid was in there with her. 

Carefully crawling forward, Anna raised a shaking hand up to the gash, pressing slightly on the area around it. 

“S-Sorry…” she murmured, softly, beginning to gently trace circles over the flesh there. She did wince at the feeling of the wall shifting under her hand, though, she didn’t stop, trying to get her apology across. 

She earned a soft rumble in response that shook everything around her with a gentle sort of vibration. 

_Is he… purring?_

Anna bit her lip, really not wanting to dwell on the implications of such a response. She gently continued to rub at the wall with the damage done to it. 

“Are you okay?” She asked him, giving a nervous glance upward at the fleshy ceiling. 

A little grumble was given in response, though she couldn’t tell what it meant. If she could see his expression, it’d be easier to understand.

The organ around her gave a growl as she stopped her rubbing, moving to grab her cane up from where it lay. A thick strand of saliva connected it to the bottom of John’s stomach, glimmering when the flashlight’s beam caught it. 

Anna grimaced. 

“Ugh, this isn’t going to work,” she huffed, “I can’t understand you, not to mention this is… really gross, no offense.”

A soft grumble of agreement managed to make her smile. “I-If…” She trailed off for a moment, taking her hand off the lightly pulsing wall, “If we’re away from the horde, do… do you think you can let me out? We both know I can’t stay here forever and I really want to see you instead of…” 

She winced. 

_Yep, that’s still too weird to think about_

“Y-Y’know…” 

John let out a small rumble, and almost as soon as he did, the area around her began to shift. Instead of the calm, almost soothing petting she’d grown accustomed to, suddenly, the organ around her began to move. The walls squeezed against her with a sudden lurch of force, enough to pin her in place. When her cane was thrust against her side, she curled her fingers around it. The walls stifled any movements she could’ve made, though, she kicked and squirmed as hard as she could manage until—

A sharp, wracking cough forced her up into his throat. The muscles that had once dragged her down dragged her upward at an achingly slow pace. Her ribcage protested the action. She tried her best to relax, not wanting to make it any harder than it undoubtedly was as another throaty heave sent her further up the way she’d came. 

_Fuck it’s hard to breathe._

_Don’t pass out, don’t pass out Anna._

She repeated it like a mantra as the muscles around her squeezed and slithered in the darkness around her. Shit, it couldn’t be much longer now, could it? 

As Anna was trying to reassure herself, the crushing pressure of John’s throat suddenly opened up, allowing her to breathe for a moment. She could feel his tongue beneath her again, and before she could truly catch her breath, the teeth that fenced her in parted, revealing the dim light of night. Suddenly, two large objects came into the space, towards Anna. 

Anna froze at the sight of what she believed to be fingers— holy shit he’s huge— terrified that two objects her size were coming straight at her, but didn’t struggle as they gently grabbed her. She was lifted effortlessly, and the cold air of the night met her skin as she was pulled from the darkness of John’s maw and placed on a soft, but sturdy floor. Her eyes stayed stubbornly shut for a few moments longer as slime dripped from her limbs, unable to quite process what had happened until something ghosted over her back, making her shudder. 

His faintly warm breath caused her hair to ruffle as she opened her eyes, one trembling hand pushing her hair out of her face. 

Anna’s eyes opened. Her breath caught in her throat. Inches from her was the face of her friend, though it dwarfed her. His huge brown eyes were trained on her face, and as she made eye contact, he cocked his head and gave a soft whine. Carefully, moving her up to his eye level, Anna followed his concerned gaze as it tracked up and down her spit-soaked form. 

_What—_

And then she realized what he was looking at. One of her hands were wet with not only spit, but blood. 

“I-It’s okay,” she told him, looking down at the surface of his palm beneath her, “it’s your blood, n-not mine.” Her head was hit with another sharp pang of pain, which made her suck in a sharp breath through her teeth. 

John’s brow immediately furrowed, another little grunt escaping his lips. Anna braced herself on his hand as she was moved closer to his eyes for inspection, meeting those huge eyes with a sigh. 

A sigh pulled from her. “I… I might have a concussion,” she admitted.

John’s concerned rumbling grew louder, which caused Anna to raise her voice and continue: “Which happened when the glass fell on me, not because of you, you giant dork.”

 _Literally_ giant dork. 

Fucking _massive_ dork. 

As he snorted his acknowledgment, Anna managed a wry smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” That seemed to be enough to calm John’s nerves. With a soft, gentle little grumble, he brought her to his chest in a makeshift hug, purring as he began to pet Anna. 

It only took Anna a moment to lean into the gentle, if not clumsy embrace, her cheek resting against the soft fabric of his sweater. Even though it had been a year and the fabric was tattered and torn in spots, the familiarity of the action made Anna’s heart twist. The warmth he emitted was faint, her cold body drinking it in greedily as she nestled closer against him. 

“What are we going to do now?” Anna asked, more to herself than the zombie holding her in a gentle grip. 

John didn’t respond, though, the petting did stop. Anna held tight to his thumb as she was moved up to his face again, his brown eyes fixed quizzically on hers. 

A questioning rumble pulled from his throat, at which Anna crossed her arms. Fuck, it was cold. Cold enough that John’s breath fogged up the space in front of her with every slow, uncertain exhale. 

“I mean, I found you,” she explained, “and the test cures must’ve snapped you out of it, but I’m tiny, it’s freezing out and I have a concussion. What are we gonna do?” 

John blinked. 

His eyes looked blank as he processed, then gave a jerky shrug.

Anna sighed.

_He probably doesn’t even remember most of his time as a zombie, and even if he does, he can’t really talk to me…_

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, trying to spark some sort of warmth, she carefully sat down on John’s palm. 

_Whatever._

_I can think about what comes next tomorrow. Thinking hurts._

Head pounding, Anna shuddered, curling in slightly to warm up. She didn’t do a thing in protest as John carefully brought her close to his chest again, his fingers boxing her in and pressing her against the faintly warm material. 

She leaned against it, moving to curl her fingers into the knitted pattern. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, earning a little, pleased purr of response. 

_Weirdo._

Eyelids heavy, Anna slumped forward. Despite having slept in John’s stomach, despite the fact that it wasn’t even that late, Anna soon fell into a deep, dreamless sleep with one thought echoing through the space of her mind. 

_What are we gonna do?_

_…_

“Shit, shit, SHIT! What are we gonna do?” Steph was starting to grow restless. Well. More than starting to. She was restless, pacing back and forth near where the group first split up. The light from a small fire was all she had to go by, though, she had practically worn a groove in the ground with the repetitive motion. “We should go find her— we— we’ve gotta do something!” 

Nick, who was sitting by the fire, shook his head and prodded at the flames with a stick. “Nothing for now,” he huffed, darkly, “she’s probably just lost. It’s crazy dark.”

“She has a light with her, asshole.”

Steph watched his jaw tense. 

“It was a shitty light, Steph,” he fired back, giving the makeshift fire another sharp jab with his half-burnt stick, “she just probably just took a wrong turn. She’s only been out there for two hours. Let’s be honest, how much trouble could she have gotten in?” 

Steph brought her boot down with a thump, stopping her pacing to shoot Nick a glare. “The gate was open, Nick! She could’ve gotten cornered and—”

“Lost? Yeah, she could’ve gotten lost, because that’s what happened, okay? Anna’s just fine.” Despite Nick’s calm voice, he refused to meet Steph’s eyes, instead working on keeping the fire going, throwing loose pieces of fabric and other items into the blaze. The flames greedily devoured the offerings. Sparks shot into the air, highlighting his face with an eerie glow. 

Steph tracked his movements with a steely gaze. “You can’t seriously believe that! Since when have you known Anna to take a ‘wrong turn’?” There was acid dripping from her tone. She knew it didn’t make sense to get mad at Nick— but it was so infuriating. How could he just sit there? “If anything,” she continued with a pointed glare, “she’s overly cautious about unknown areas and would be the first one here. Something’s definitely happened. Oh god, the gate was open, who knows how many zombies could be in here?”

She began pacing again. Her hands came up to tug at her short-cropped hair. “I— I can’t lose another one…” 

Nick practically slammed a piece of wood into the fire, embers flying everywhere, and all but jumped in front of Steph. “Anna. Is. Fine.” He spat with enough raw anger in his tone to make Steph flinch. 

His hands fell to his sides in tightly clenched fists as he continued. “We’re not losing anyone. She got lost, okay? That’s the only option.” 

_No, it’s not,_ Steph thought, _she could be dead for all we know. The base is big enough that we wouldn’t have heard her scream._

She met Nick’s eye with her shoulders squared and her teeth grit. 

“Do you even care?” Steph asked, unable to keep her voice from wavering a tad. 

“I—” Nick broke off into a groan, then turned back to the fire. “Yes, but you’re concerned over nothing,” he huffed, laying down as he did. “You’re so concerned over nothing. If it matters that much to you, we can search tomorrow, but she’ll show up soon so just fucking relax, alright? I’m going to sleep.” Nick silenced himself. With a sharp huff, he laid down on a spare blanket near the crackling flames and curled up tight. 

_Oh, for fuck’s sake—_

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Steph snapped, once again, whirling on him. “It’s like, seven-thirty! We could be using that time to try and find her.” 

Nick narrowed his eyes, huffed, then rolled over. “Yeah, well,” he grumbled, “it’s cold, and dark, and we barely had anything to eat today. We need to conserve what energy we have before we even think about Anna. But if you want to go out now and get yourself killed or pass out from hunger or cold in the middle of a horde, be my guest.” 

Steph was practically seething, but remained where she was. Her pacing grew faster. Her hands twitched at her sides. She was at her limit— past her limit with Nick— and having Anna gone was only making everything so much worse. 

Speaking low enough that Nick couldn’t hear, Steph stopped her pacing. “Bastard. Do you even care?” Her instincts screamed at her to go find Anna, wherever she was. It wasn’t all that dark yet, and she had more than enough batteries for her flashlight. It wasn’t even that dark. She could go looking for Anna and be back before Nick’s stupid little fire even went out, but… 

Two missing people wouldn’t help anyone. 

Rather than trying to go to sleep, Steph walked over to the bag full of supplies and items she had gathered in the base and began digging into it. It only took her few seconds to find a laminated map of the building. Steph looked at Nick on the other side of the fire. 

“She couldn’t have gone too far,” she reasoned, “the area is pretty secluded and doesn’t have many ways to get out of there. So there’s a good chance she’s still in her spot. I swear the second the sun comes up, we’re going to find her. Got it?” 

Nick rolled over in response. “Yeah, yeah…” he grumbled, flipping a corner of the blanket over his head. 

Steph bit back a response. It wasn’t worth it. Knowing she was basically stuck by the fire until dawn, she began to rummage through her findings, sorting things to keep her mind from wandering. Ammo for Nick, a good amount of batteries, a heavyset wrench, a marker, the map… 

Her eyes lingered on the floorplan, tracking over the hallway where Anna had disappeared. There weren’t that many rooms on that side of the building. 

_Got lost my ass._

Uncapping the market with her teeth, Steph got to work mapping out where Anna could’ve gone. So long as things hadn’t gone wrong, she couldn’t have gotten all that far… 

After an hour of marking Anna’s side of the map up with the red marker, scribbling in her shorthanded scrawl, Steph felt her eyelids beginning to droop. It had been a long day, and although Anna was missing, maybe Nick was right. Maybe she was completely fine. She was resourceful enough to get through anything, after all. Whatever had happened, she’d show up with a crooked grin and a story that started with: “you’re not gonna believe this shit.” 

Comforted, if only a little by the thought, Steph set the marked-up map aside and yawned. As much as Nick had been an asshole, it was late. Gingerly, Steph took one of the tattered blankets Nick had salvaged and wrapped herself up in it, succumbing to the warmth from the fire within minutes. 

After about fifteen minutes of silence, Nick carefully sat upright. Steph was asleep– he could tell by the soft snoring coming from her side of the campfire, and the fact that the shrill squealing of marker on laminated paper had come to a halt. 

His eyes took a moment to adjust to the low light. The fire had gone down a tad, and as he shed the blankets and made to snatch the discarded map off the ground, he tossed another stack of spare papers onto the blaze. Moving slowly, as not to wake Steph, he took the laminated paper between two fingers and drew it close to his face, giving up instantly on deciphering her chicken scratch. 

_I’ve lost too many people. My friends, my dad…_

His grip tightened on the map.

_There’s no way I’m losing you, too._

“I’ll find you,” he murmured, “don’t worry.” Whether that reassurance was directly to Anna or himself, Nick couldn’t be sure as he placed the map back where he’d found it and settled back down, wanting the morning to start up already.

It felt like Nick had his eyes closed for only an instant before sunlight began to shine through the windows. He squinted slightly and covered his eyes with his blanket. Not a moment later he felt someone kick his side, not painfully, but enough to snap him awake. He was about to attack whoever kicked him but just sighed when he saw a ticked-off Steph, glaring at him.

“What?” He grumbled, making an effort to pull the blanket further up over his face, though Steph… didn’t look right. 

Shit. 

“Anna isn’t back yet. So get up, grab some food on the go, and let’s move.” At those words, Nick’s heart sped up and he sat up, hoping that Steph was just screwing with him. It had happened often enough, it was practically routine, but–

There was no sign of Anna. 

Shit, shit, shit.

Pushing the blanket off himself, Nick stood and began to shuffle toward his pack, snatching up a granola bar without a word. 

Steph, however, was less than silent. “Wow, you certainly changed your tune fast. Guess you really do care about her.” 

Tossing his wrapper at her, Nick swallowed. “Look,” he grumbled as he grabbed his bat, and, after a moment’s thought, his pistol. “I just don’t want her to be one of them, okay?” 

Steph’s grin faltered, if only momentarily. It didn’t take her long to be at his side, the wrench she’d pilfered the day before swinging steadily in her grip. 

“We should probably leave a note,” Steph reasoned, “in case she shows up while we’re gone.” 

Nick looked back at the campsite for a moment. If he squinted, he could pretend Anna had shown up during the night and was sleeping near the burned-out fire, but a small breeze that rustled the spare blankets made him painfully aware of the fact that the site was deserted. No Anna. 

“And write it on what? Next thing you’ll be sayin’ is that one of us should stay.” 

Steph opened her mouth to interrupt, but Nick didn’t do so much as flinch. 

“Anna’s practically cornered in her section, so we’ll run into her eventually,” he muttered as he began to stalk forward. 

So long as nothing else has already. 

Steph followed a reasonable three steps behind him, tapping her wrench rhythmically against her side, though, she was quick to match, then double his pace. The hallway soon tapered off, and after a moment of silence, the two uneasily turned to follow Anna’s footsteps.

_It’s about time we got going_

Steph thought, just about racing into the unknown territory alongside Nick. Steph took the lead with the map while Nick made sure nothing was following behind, bat at the ready. 

Not a word was spoken for around half an hour. Every room they found was empty, empty enough that it looked almost like the base had been stripped down entirely. Nick’s hackles were raised. Every little sound, every echo of his own feet, was enough to make him raise his bat and glare down the nearest hall. 

“Nothing to kill,” Nick muttered coldly, “no one living, and not one useful thing here. So either there’s nothing in this section, or they’re all packed near the back.” He couldn’t keep himself from looking over his shoulder every few moments, and as he looked ahead, he noticed Steph had her attention on the walls, now being able to clearly see the walls with the sunlight

“Yeah, and the fucking map isn’t going to help when a lot of the walls are torn down. With all these gunshots they must’ve been guarding this area more than ours,” Steph held her wrench with one hand and the map in the other, squinting at her notes in vain before opting to stuff the floorplan back in her bag. 

Nick took a few steps forward, raising his bat as he did.

_Fuck, this place gives me the creeps._

“Must’ve been something they were trying to protect, something they needed to guard with all available soldiers… which could be very bad for us,” Nick whispered, his brow furrowing and his grip tig tightening on his bat. 

“Why’s that, other than the new holes in the walls making it harder to find Anna?” Steph whispered back, shooting him a sideways glance with her brows quirked. 

Nick stalked forward. “The front gate is open for zombies to get in. The military put a lot of power into this one spot. I barely fought any zombies in my section and I bet it’s the same for you. Who knows how densely packed the zombie population is in here?” 

_There could be millions of the fuckers._

It made him shudder, just thinking about it. 

_And the worst part is that nobody would be able to get out._

_They’d be boxed in._

Slapping the bat against his palm, Nick turned his eyes to Steph. “Keep a sharp lookout, and everything’s gonna be fine,” he huffed.

Steph nodded, and as the pair paced forward, neither of them noticed a door that hung slightly ajar. They were too focused on the hall before them, the hall with the darkened corners and the very real possibility of the undead. 

_She’s fine._

Nick repeated it in his head like a mantra, and as they passed locked door after locked door, the tension in the air grew. 

“Maybe she left?” Steph tried as they came across a broom closet. 

“Why wouldn’t she have gotten us first?” 

Steph sighed, quickening her pace. “I– fuck, I dunno– maybe she–”

A door behind them squealed open with a suddenness that made both of them flinch and whip around. Both of them kept their weapons raised, watching with bated breath as the door gave another sharp creak. 

The silence that followed was deafening. 

Both of them kept their eyes trained on the opening, and not a minute too soon, a zombie lurched through the opening.

“Shit,” Nick hissed, eyes widening as he took in the military armour the thing was wearing. There was no question of it having not seen them. Those glossy eyes were fixated on them, and as the creature shuddered and lurched its way forward, another one followed behind it, then another after that. 

Steph’s grip on her wrench tightened. “It’s just three, we’ll be fi-” Steph was silenced by some shuffling from a nearby break on the opposite side of the wall.

Both of them began to back away, though, their backs quickly pressed together. 

“It’ll be fine. I’ll take the three, you get the two over there.” Nick hissed towards Steph, raising his bat as high as he could manage. 

Steph followed suit, and with a shout, brought her wrench down on the head of the nearest zombie with a sickening clang. 

Turning his back, whipping his bat at the nearest creature, Nick watched with grim satisfaction as it stumbled back. 

_One down._

Nick thought, though–

The zombie was quick to regain its balance and stumble forward, its lips pulled back in a wicked, jagged sort of snarl. Nick swung the bat up, blocking its reaching, trembling fingers from hooking into his skin. 

“Why didn’t these bastards have the courtesy to ditch the helmets BEFORE they turned?” He shouted, backing up with the bat held up in front of him. The creature snapped its teeth inches from his face. 

Steph noticed the problem as well and took a different approach, “Try to knock the head off the neck!” She yelled at Nick as she swung the wrench, aiming lower. That did something. With a sharp thwack, Steph drove the loosened end of the wrench home. A piece of flesh peeled up like a bandaid, exposing strings of muscle and tendons, along with a spray of blood that splattered across the wall. The creature slumped over, lifeless. 

Nick took her advice and slammed his metal bat into the side of one that was right in front of him and not giving the zombie a chance to recuperate, bashed his weapon against it with as much force as he could muster. The head of the creature came clean off its shoulders with one smooth crack, sending the body falling forward in a crumpled heap.

Nick smirked and hefted the bat over his shoulder. 

_Back in the game._

Steph’s wrench hit up against the zombie’s neck again, adding to the dripping, deep gash. Flesh was peeling up along the foul thing’s neck, though, when she tried to drive the wrench in deeper, its fingers wrapped around her arm, jerking her forward. She dug her heels in, barely managing to yank her arm away from its teeth. The other zombie had taken an interest in her, too, and as she tried to figure out what to do, she stumbled forward. 

One hand on her wrench, Steph took the sharp end of the steel tool, jerked her arm forward, and slammed the wrench up through the bottom of its jaw. 

The grip on her arm disappeared as the zombie let out a strangled, gurgling sort of squeal, blood trickling from its nose as it struggled in vain, weakly batting at her before collapsing. 

“YES!” Steph cried, though, as she went to retrieve her wrench from the bottom of the zombie’s face, the other creature nearly tackled her. 

Swinging around, bending over and dragging one hand through a pile of rubble, Steph closed her fingers around a piece of metal and whipped it into the creature’s neck, practically flipping it over herself. 

She could hear Nick swinging wildly beside her, and as the zombie that had grappled her spat up another horrid, burbling mouthful of bile, Steph picked up a piece of the wreckage around her and slammed it down between its eyes. 

Blood splattered across her face. 

Shoulders heaving, Steph turned in time to watch Nick send the last creature to the ground, its face a bloody pulp. 

Neither of them spoke a word, no sound in the air except for their own harsh breathing. Steph leaned up against the nearest wall, halfway hunched over, and after a moment, Nick joined her. 

“You good?” Nick asked, taking in the blood beginning to dry on Steph’s face. 

Steph shrugged. It was all she could get her body to do. “A couple of close calls but I wasn’t bitten, so I’ll take that victory.” She chuckled slightly between sharp, heavy gasps of air. 

Both stayed quiet. Neither wanted to say anything, too out of breath to form words, but both thought the same thing. 

_If we struggled with five…_

_Just one fight…_

_How could Anna survive on her own?_


	3. Where to Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CO-written with @that-one-fandom-vore-blog on Tumblr (they're amazing please check them out)
> 
> Also, check out Anna and the Apocalypse, it's highly underrated.

Anna stirred awake on a strange, almost leathery surface. Her body was warm, which was something almost foreign to her. It was never warm when her, Nick, and Steph settled down to camp. She wasn’t even wearing a blanket, yet there was warmth surrounding her, seeming to radiate from whatever she was laying on. 

_How?_

Groggily blinking a few times, vision clouded from sleep, Anna tried to sit upright. The surface beneath her was a little soft but familiar in a way she couldn’t place. Confusion flickered across her bleary features, and as she gave a wide yawn—

A sharp pang of hunger made her almost double over. 

Now she was awake. 

Focusing on her surroundings with increasing incredulity, Anna swore she saw fingers boxing her in, and as she struggled to sit more upright, she was made aware of the fact that she was sitting on the palm of a gigantic hand. 

_Why am I—_

Sitting up in an instant, looking around her in a bleary, sleepy panic, Anna managed to get to her hands and knees. The hand beneath her was soft, and as she knelt, her heart rate slowly beginning to climb, she looked to where the hand connected to a wrist, her wide eyes tracking up an arm clad in a familiar-looking sweater before settling on something that made that confusion fade. 

_—Oh. Right._

John’s huge face blocked the rest of her view, and when her eyes settled on him, he bared his teeth in what looked like an attempt at a smile. His head tilted slightly to the left. A soft little snort escaped him, and gently, Anna felt herself being raised up to his face with a slow, jerky motion. She didn’t bother trying to grapple one of his fingers for balance, she simply stared up at his big brown eyes in a mixture of intimidation and confusion. 

He didn’t say a word. To his credit, Anna didn’t really think he could say much, but it was still so genuinely unnerving to watch him give a slow, weighted sort of blink. A low huff escaped his throat, causing Anna’s ribcage to vibrate with the sound. 

_Right. This is a thing, now._

Skin prickling, Anna shifted her weight and turned her attention to the rest of the room. There was an awkwardness that clung to her, heavy on her shoulders as she scrutinized their surroundings. They were still in the base, from what she could tell. The walls were riddled with holes, bits of the walls chipped off and broken in places. John’s back was pressed up against the closest wall—

_He’s sitting and he’s still enormous._

—and as she carefully craned her neck to see around his head, she could see other scattered bits of rubble decorating the floor near him. wall. It was cold, she was noticing, but not nearly as cold as last night. John’s uneven breaths had warmed her some, anyway. Gooseflesh was rising along her arms, and as she switched her gaze from one object on the ground to the other, avoiding looking at John with as much determination as she could muster. 

What was she supposed to say to him? The events of the day prior were still fresh in her mind, rolling and crashing like tidal waves. She was only a few inches tall, he was a hulking zombie, he’d _eaten_ her—

Her stomach growled. 

Gaze snapping to meet his, Anna carefully, exaggeratedly wrapped her arms around herself and tried to find her voice. 

“Do—uh—do you know where I can get something to eat?” She asked, unable to keep from flinching a little away when he shifted his hand. “I haven’t had anything since yesterday afternoon…” 

She swore his eyes widened a tad. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he truly looked like he had before everything had gone straight to hell. His head tilted to the left, a soft little grumble of sound escaping him. His eyes drifted, that lucid look not faltering as his lips twitched, incoherent mumblings filling the air with low, steady vibrations. 

Anna exhaled. 

_Talking to himself._

_Nothing’s changed at all._

With her headache and dizziness fading away after so much time spent asleep, Anna was finally able to take in everything that had happened, processing it without having to work around the pains of a headache. 

_I’m stuck like this…_

She had to be at three inches tall, at the most. Her cane was still with her, still sturdy and as brightly coloured as ever. It was there if she needed protection, though, at three fucking inches tall… how could she fight off anything? She hadn’t even managed to stop her best friend from swallowing her alive—

Anna grit her teeth. Exhaled through her nose. Chanced a glance at the still wandering gaze of the zombie holding her.

_John hasn’t hurt me._

_Hasn’t even tried._

Those thoughts made her relax a fraction, but try as she might to cling to them, her mind was more than happy to throw a new set of images across the space behind her eyes.

_John’s eyes locked onto her form. His lips began to curl back in a snarl, showing off a dizzying array of teeth—_

Anna gave a violent jolt and sucked in a breath through her teeth. She wasn’t going to think about that. 

_John **wouldn’t** hurt me. _

_He would never forgive himself if he did._

But… that was the John she remembered. This one was a zombie— not to mention, she was absolutely minuscule in comparison. He’d already eaten her once— like she was nothing— and maybe he’d enjoyed her taste enough that he’d snap her up again, and that’d be the end—

Anna shook her head as if to clear those intrusive memories away John lightly patted her on the head. His clumsy fingers began to pet her, the gentle motion catching her off guard.

“Agh!” Her cheeks flushed red. Acting on impulse, she moved to swat his fingers away, unable to keep from giving him a crooked smile despite her annoyance. 

His own face mirrored her lopsided grin, and as she listened, she could hear harsh, huffing wheezes rattling from his chest. They were almost like little barks of noise. 

_What—_

He snorted.

_—laughing at me._

Crossing her arms, moving to sit more in the middle of his palm, Anna looked up at him with faint traces of a smile still on her lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up now. Just wait until I’m back to normal. Then I’ll kick your ass for that.” 

His brow crinkled as she gave a soft sigh. “So… What’d you figure out while you were in la-la land, then? Something about the food situation I hope.” John tapped his nose and stood up, a little too fast for Anna. She scrambled to grip onto a finger, suddenly glad she wasn’t dizzy. The rushing sensation had turned her insides into water, and with only a second to regain her composure, her eyes darted back to John, though—

_No._

She was being lifted to John’s mouth. Anna’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Her memory came alive again, and as she stumbled back on his palm, falling flat on her backside, all she could see were the images flashing through her mind.

_That hand— that monstrous, discoloured hand riddled with bluish veins— was inches from her, and the distance was closing._

“N-NO!” Anna all but screeched as she was mere inches away from his partially open mouth, hands flying up to cover her eyes. This was it. He’d gotten tired of her, and now he was going to—

Anna felt herself being moved away. 

Daring to lower her hands, she looked up to see John’s face, shrouded with confusion and concern. A low rumble shook through her. 

She sagged in relief, the breath she’d been holding pulling from her in a sharp rush.

“Shit… umm… maybe don’t do that? I’m more than fine here.” Anna gave a nervous laugh, patting his hand in emphasis. 

John cocked his head like a dog, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “Safe…” he murmured, moving her a little closer once again.

Anna scooted back near-instantly, her words coming out in a mess of tangled syllables. “Y-yeah I know it’s safe, but we should be looking for food for me, not food for you. You— Y-You get what I’m saying, right?”

The silence that followed made Anna’s ears ring. It was almost like he hadn’t heard her at all. His eyes were hopelessly vacant. The noises he was making had stopped altogether.

“…right?” She tried again.

John blinked. Unsteadily, as if just figuring out how to properly move, he gave a slow, jerky little nod. 

His brow furrowed once more, and as Anna watched, he began to growl under his breath, looking more irritated with himself than anything. His lips twitched, uncertain little syllables falling from them for a moment, before dissolving back into short, confused little grumbles.

After a few moments of low rumbling, Anna felt herself being lowered toward the floor. It was gentler than the motions of him standing up, less jerky, too, as he carefully lowered his hand to the concrete and rumbled again. 

“I—“ she tried, though, before she could say a word, his hand abruptly tilted to the side, all but dumping her off the side of it with a squeak. Her cane fell off first, and Anna followed soon after, landing on her side with a soft thud.

The concrete was cold under her body, though, Anna was quick to stand and watch as John backed up a few paces, and began a very confusing game of charades.

His motions were quick and jerky, and Anna could only stare in confusion as he stood back at his full height and swung a hand downward. 

_What…_

Following where he’d pointed with her brow furrowed, Anna glanced at the concrete beneath her. 

“…the floor?” She guessed.

John growled in response. When she looked up, he shook his head slowly and jerkily before pointing again, more in her direction. 

“The… s’it these rocks here, or— or walkin’? Where we came from?” He could’ve been pointing behind her, though, everything seemed deserted, and not to mention, it was huge, big enough that she could easily miss some detail that he was trying to show her— 

Big enough that you could go missing or get stepped on or snatched up by something that isn’t your friend, did you think of that?

Another growl from John shook her out of her thoughts and caused her to look up at him. As much as his features were deadened, Anna could see irritation flashing across his face as he pointed again, giving a low, unsteady growl and shake of his head

“An…” he tried, the suddenness of the broken word catching Anna off guard. He pointed again, nearly tripping as he pointed downward once again. His eyes met her own. 

It clicked. 

“Anna?” Feeling a little ridiculous saying her own name, she pointed at herself and drew her shoulders up. “Me?” 

For a moment, she thought he’d growl again. He blinked, his expression changing slowly, but surely. A crooked smile fell across his lips, and Anna felt an odd, light sort of flutter in her chest when he nodded. 

“Right,” she breathed, dropping her hands. Picking up the cane at her side, leaning on it a tad, Anna couldn’t stop a smile at how enthusiastic he looked. 

A happy little grumble shook from him, and as he grinned down at her, more a snarl that curled up at the edges, she huffed out a laugh. 

“Congratulations, I know my own name.” She grumbled, unable to keep up the annoyed facade due to the fact that her lip seemed deadset on curling upward. “Good thing you told me, otherwise I never would’a—“

“Safe,” John interrupted, and before Anna could say another word, he gave a deep, throaty growl that made her blood turn to ice. Images flashed through her mind before she could try to fight them off, a small, shaky breath escaping her. Her grip on the cane tightened. 

If anything, he was growling louder by the second, an awful, grating noise that rose above the panicked rushing of blood in her ears. It was barely human— hardly a noise she could ever picture him making— but it was escaping his throat regardless as he shuffled closer and closer to his potential meal— 

“Safe,” John’s voice came again, and as Anna looked up, she could see that his brow was furrowed and those brown eyes she knew so well seemed almost guilty. Another growl shook through him, though, it was more subdued this time. It sounded exaggerated. More emphasis on it to a point where it sounded more like an over the top gurgle. 

“Safe…” Anna echoed, watching as John nodded, then growled again. 

_Safe and then a growl?_

Anna just stared, the confusion on her face obvious despite the height difference. “What… what does that even mean? That— John, that’s not a word—”

“Safe!” John insisted, punctuating the word with an over the top growl. His eyes seemed to be pleading with her, and Anna backed up slightly as he bent over, grumbling under his breath. His eyes drifted across her little frame, his lips twitching slightly as though he was trying to speak. 

Anna’s mind was racing. 

_Safe… grrr?_

It didn’t make sense. Why would he growl at her? She could tell he was getting frustrated— she was too. 

_What is he—_

“Oh!” Anna’s face lit up and she looked up at John. 

“Safer?” She tried. 

The noise from John was loud enough to make her ears ring. An excited, near purr of a rumble made Anna feel like she was vibrating, and that crooked grin decorating his face made a matching one settle on her lips. 

“Okay, okay, so I’m safer… where?” She asked, watching as John straightened himself out. 

It only took him a moment to give the next instruction. Swinging a hand to his middle, John pointed at his stomach. Anna got the idea immediately.

“I’m safer in your…” She trailed off, swallowing nervously before trying again, “in… in there?” She intoned, pointing at his middle as well as she could manage. “In… your stomach?” 

John nodded a final time, kneeling down completely with a suddenness that made Anna flinch. 

She backed up as his hands came to rest in front of her, not too far off the ground and palm up. His eyes were focused on her, that crooked, familiar grin still sitting on his face. His head tilted to the side, a small, curious little noise escaping him.

Anna gripped her cane tighter. “Listen,” she started, not breaking eye-contact, “I know with the zombies out there it’s… it’s not safe, even when I’m my normal size, but maybe hold off on doing…” She winced. 

_Say it._

She couldn’t. 

Pointing again at his middle, Anna tried to make sure he understood her point. “…that… until there are some zombies in sight, sound good?” 

Keeping her distance by a few inches, she watched closely as John looked down. His fingers twitched in place, the movement stiff and jerky, before he met her eyes and gave a slight nod. 

Anna exhaled. 

_Oh thank god._

_Now if we can avoid any zombies for the rest of time itself, that’ll be great._

Hesitantly, breaking eye contact to focus on moving forward, Anna carefully stepped toward his hands, already anticipating the grab she knew he was readying himself to make. His fingers twitched. His hands shifted a little closer to her, though… they stopped. 

She frowned. She could practically feel him on her already, his hand more than close enough that it bumped up against her side. 

Stepping away momentarily, Anna mirrored John’s cocked head. “Uh, what’s wrong?”

His hand bumped against her again. A soft noise burbled up from his throat and he leaned a little closer, splaying his fingers momentarily. The grumbling noise was gentle, but firm in a way, more a prompt than anything. 

_What does he—_

One of his fingers bumped up against her again.

_Oh._

Anna blinked, looking up John as she finally got the message. She shivered a little bit, being grabbed and moved around was one thing, but walking onto the hands of a giant— best friend or not—was a bit nerve-wracking.

Still, she tried to push her fears away as she carefully walked towards and climbed onto John’s hand, trying not to focus on the action itself. She had to hop up a bit, and ended up stumbling, falling flat on her front onto the surface of his palm. She swore she heard slight huffs of a laugh from above her, and as she tried to get up, she grumbled:

“Maybe if you lowered your giant zombie hand a bit more, I wouldn’t have fallen.” She tried to sound irritated, though, she couldn’t keep herself from chuckling under her breath. Crookedly, she smiled up at John, though she was hit with an unexpected pang of some feeling she couldn’t quite explain, seeing him roll his eyes with that dorky smile she remembered so well.

After a moment, John slowly stood up, bringing his other hand up to keep Anna from falling. She grabbed onto his fingers near-instantly, and although he stood up slowly, the feeling of being moved upward made her feel like she was in an unsteady elevator. Everything lurched, herself included, as he straightened out. The hands bracing her were quick to move, however, and Anna found herself stumbling so her back was braced against his chest. 

Slumping into a sitting position, Anna stretched her legs out on the surface beneath her and allowed her head to loll back onto the soft fabric of his sweater. When he began to move, his hands swayed along in time with his footsteps, causing Anna to grip her cane tightly for reassurance.

_Where’s he going?_

She tried to sit up straighter for a moment, though, quickly gave up.

What did it matter where he was going? He probably knew the area better than she did, seeing as she didn’t know it at all, not to mention, the hordes of undead wouldn’t try to snack on him as far as she knew. 

Still…

“Hey, John,” She asked, tapping his palm to get his attention and craning her neck back to look him in the eye. A low rumble shook through her chest, loud enough to make her core feel like it was buzzing. “Please be careful,” she murmured, then, realizing how dark her tone had gotten, she tried to add a lighthearted: “It’d suck if you got bit again and turned into even more of a zombie.” 

He gave a soft huff in response. 

Leaning back once more, Anna carefully pressed her head against his chest, listening to the very, very slow thudding of his heart and his soft, slightly ragged breathing. It was almost comforting, in a way. Those were human noises, noises something dead couldn’t make, and she could feel her own heart slowing a tad to a point where it almost matched. Her thoughts then trailed to a spot lower than his heart. A spot she’d visited. 

_I can’t believe that I was actually in there and that it’s safe, as safe as you can be inside a zombie, anyway._

She curled up a little on herself, wanting to block out the huge outside world, wanting to ignore those little fears and just pretend that she was just hanging out with a normal-sized human John. That would be nice. That would be so much better than being a few inches tall. That would mean the apocalypse hadn’t happened— that he was his normal, goofy, human self.

_But he’s not… he’s a zombie, a zombie who…_

She couldn’t help but grimace a tad.

_Who wants to eat me._

_Maybe his mind isn’t back all the way yet, but don’t worry._

The packets from the lab had held the formula for a cure. A makeshift cure, sure, but one that could work. 

Snuggling up a little more against the faint warmth emanating from John, Anna gave a soft sigh.

_I’m getting you back._

##  _…_

“It’s okay, we’re definitely getting her back, right?” Steph’s feet were beginning to hurt and she was beginning to doubt her own words. 

The two had been walking through the halls for what felt like days, checking every room and fighting way too many zombies for their liking. Steph was sore all over, and she was almost certain Nick was feeling the same way, due to the fact that the little sarcastic quips he’d been tossing her way had grown few and far between. They walked in uneasy silence, and with every step they took, Steph could feel a weight settling on her shoulders. 

No Anna. 

“Well,” Nick’s voice cut through her thoughts, “considering we’re almost at the end of the section, she’s obviously gonna be here. Probably just locked herself in a room.” There was confidence in his words, along with truth. 

They hadn’t even seen a candy cane, flashlight beam, or even fresh blood, which meant she’d vanished from sight, locked herself away, or… 

Steph sank her teeth into her lip. She didn’t want to consider it, but it was possible that Anna’s broken, battered body was somewhere further up the hall. Every time they passed a piece of rubble, Steph found herself pleading that Anna’s lifeless form wasn’t slumped behind it, and as much as Nick had tried to convince her he wasn’t worried, she’d caught him doing the same thing. 

Walking in a tense sort of silence, both of them clutching their weapons as readily as they could, Steph caught sight of a partially open door. She’d just opened her mouth to tell Nick, though, when she turned her head—

Already, Nick was opening the door the rest of the way and peering inside, motioning for her to follow. 

They were dead quiet as they cautiously dipped into the new room. It was dark inside, and Steph was quick to flick on her flashlight, nearly jumping out of her skin when the light was reflected back at her. 

_What—_

“Calm down,” Nick huffed at her, “it’s only a bunch of vials.” 

Sure enough, he was right. Both of them straightened up a tad as they moved into the new space, the steady beam from Steph’s light illuminating more and more of their surroundings. They were surrounded by shelves upon shelves of glass vials. It looked like a crackpot laboratory, and as Steph swung her flashlight this way and that, she was made acutely aware of the fact that it was almost maze-like in design. 

Trying to get rid of her unease, Steph trailed a hand across the dusty vials, squinting in an attempt to read the scrawled labels. “Hey, your dad was a big ol’ military man, right? Did he happen to tell you what any of this might be?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug. “He wasn’t supposed to talk to me about much of anything that goes on the base normally,” he paced the shelves, moving just out of Steph’s line of sight and around to the next row, “so I don’t really think he would have mentioned it to m—” He stopped short.

_Shit._

Steph raised the wrench she’d pilfered from the base defensively, getting ready to face whatever Nick had spotted, though—

“Steph, I think I found something.”

Rounding the corner cautiously, trying not to let panic take over, Steph quietly stepped to Nick’s side. His arm came up, blocking her from stepping forward. 

Steph frowned. “What’re you doing?” 

“Look at the shelf.” He motioned toward the shelf before him, though, he didn’t drop his arm. 

“Hey, tallass, I can’t fucking see. What about it?” Standing on tiptoe, swatting at Nick’s arm, Steph tried to swing her light to see what he’d spotted. 

At first, she didn’t see much of anything. It just looked like another shelf, though, as she stepped a tad closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with Nick, she could see some details she’d missed. Bits of broken glass were littered across the floor, and they were scattered in a murky looking puddle. Liquid was dripping down the shelf, the different colours mingling in the steadily growing pool on the floor. 

“What… what the fuck?” Steph intoned, watching as Nick carefully stepped over the puddle, looking at the glass shards. 

“This happened recently,” he murmured, lowering his voice. “Everything’s still wet, and look—” he gestured to some of the half-shattered vials still holding their shape on the floor. “—they’re still leaking.”

Steph nodded. Hope flickered to life in her chest. “So it was either a tipsy zombie bumping into this one specific shelf, or…” She broke into a shocked laugh. She couldn’t help it.

“Or it was Anna,” Nick finished, “and since there’s no blood, I’d say she’s alive.” 

Although his tone was somewhat flat, Steph could see the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. “Okay! Let’s go get her then! I mean, where else could she have gone, right? She— She’s probably close, we— we can catch up!” 

Relief washed over her in a heavy wave. “Jesus, I’ve got some shit to say to her. She better have a great excuse as to why she just up and left.”

Nick nodded, gripping his bat tightly. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I’ve got a few choice words.”

The two began to make their way to the exit across the room, spirits considerably raised. 

“Absolutely,” Steph replied, “for starters, a good ‘what the fuck’ is in order.”

Nick gave a soft laugh, leading the way out with his bat at the ready. “For sure.” 

As the two entered the hallway once again, the pair of them both felt considerably lighter. Anna was alive. 

## …

“How far is this place even… it’s like you’re taking every wrong turn…” Anna grumbled, moving from her previous position to peer out of John’s hands, only to see a dark, narrow looking hallway. The walls seemed to box John in as he carefully moved forward through the darkness. It didn’t look all that familiar to her. 

Shifting again, trying not to think of how little space her hands took up on his, Anna squinted in the dark. “What, are you going through the walls?” She questioned, earning a soft huff and a jerky little nod from above her. 

“Well, shit. Guess that explains where all the light went the past ten minutes… Are we at least close?” Her stomach was starting to hurt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Being back in Little Haven had really taken away her appetite, but now, the stress of the days spent without eating was finally catching up with her. 

John gave another nod and Anna moved back to her previous position before the drafty air of the area got to her. It was cold enough to make her skin prickle, though, as she settled back down against John’s chest, she could feel warmth seeping back into her bones. 

“Guess you know your way around here, huh?” She murmured, more to herself than John as she leaned further against the faint warmth he provided. She swayed along in time to his footsteps, and when he didn’t answer, she sighed and continued. 

“Must’ve been here for a while, huh? Guess you remember a lot from just… wandering around all day… every day…”

Wandering around for a lot of days, if she had to guess. He wasn’t exactly a fast walker. His gait was shambling and more a limp than a true walk, the motion causing her to pitch a little bit with each of his steps. It must’ve taken him a couple of days to have gotten himself all the way from the old mall to the military base, and although it didn’t seem like he was really hurt… 

Anna drew herself inward a little bit and sighed heavily. “Limping pretty bad, too…” 

The rocking of his steps stopped short. A concerned rumble made her ribcage vibrate, and without warning, Anna felt herself being lifted. Shifting, moving to sit on her knees, Anna didn’t move as she was lifted up to meet John’s eyes. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that it still looked like him— still was him. Those big brown eyes were so human, so full of unvoiced concern that it made her heart twist. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking down at the hand below her, “I’m just a bit disappointed in myself, that’s all.”

A confused grumble pulled from his throat. 

Dipping her head, Anna dug her fingers into her palms. “I couldn’t save you back then… a-and then…” her breaths were coming shakily. Her vision blurred, though, she knew she couldn’t blame the concussion.

“You were just stuck wandering some useless town ‘til you died again.” Her voice was getting louder. It wobbled unsteadily. Raising a fist, she swatted irritably at her eyes. “And the first thing I do when we finally see each other again is make myself completely fucking useless and—“

A growl from John cut her off. Looking up, she watched him shake his head. 

She managed a bitter laugh. “What’re you talking about? I’m like, two inches tall, can’t kill zombies, can’t walk to find food, and I can’t even keep myself warm. How can anyone be useful like this?” 

_They can’t._

A voice in her head pointed out. 

_Which is why you’re so useless now._

John’s troubled expression shifted. Anna bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, the confusion in his gaze more than enough to make her dig her teeth in deeper. 

_I’m just making things harder for him._

_He probably doesn’t understand._

John pointed to himself, the suddenness of the action catching Anna off guard. 

Sniffing, crossing her arms, she looked up at him. “What, you’re saying I helped you?” She asked, incredulous. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be a zombie, and if I wasn’t stupid, I wouldn’t have gotten small and need you to take care of me!” 

Sitting back down, Anna brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them for good measure. Tucking her head down, she tried her best to ignore the sting of tears burning her eyes. It was a familiar feeling. 

_Useless._

_Fucking useless._

A moment later, John used his spare hand to gently pet Anna’s head, causing her to look up with red-rimmed eyes and scowl, though she didn’t try to swat him away. 

Another careful grumble pulled from John’s throat. He looked a tad frustrated as he pointed to himself again with a little more energy, then dipped his head and closed his eyes. 

Anna’s brow furrowed. 

“You’re asleep?” She asked. 

John’s free hand waggled in a so-so motion before he continued. Moving slowly, eyes open again and trained solely on her, he pointed at Anna then, made the same motion, but tapped himself and opened his eyes.

It took her a moment, but she understood. 

“You were asleep. I woke you up.” 

John gave a single nod and a little grunt of affirmation. His lips curled up at the corners again, and although Anna’s chest still ached, she managed a smile in return. She didn’t do so much as squeal in protest as he brought her to his chest in a sort of hug, purring slightly. 

She leaned into it. Her face met soft, faintly warm fabric. Taking a tiny hand, she carefully patted his chest and sighed, albeit, shakily. 

“Sorry,” she murmured, “just a bit cold and hungry, must be getting ahold of me.” 

A low noise of understanding made her smile feel a little more genuine. “Thanks, though.”

Anna embraced the comfort and gave a sigh, feeling John beginning to move again.

It was silent for the rest of the walk, Anna only hearing the slow heartbeat with equally slow breaths and the limping, shuffling noise of his feet on the ground. She kept her face pressed against his chest, his gentle grip on her shifting to practically pin her up against his front. 

_Why—_

He was crouching. His footsteps dragged more, and Anna could hear the sound of his sweater brushing against the walls, but soon enough, it stopped altogether. 

Anna’s stomach lurched as John stood upright and she found herself clutching one of his fingers to keep her balance. She wobbled on her feet despite the steadiness of John’s hand, peering over at the surrounding room. It was dirty, dark, and would break every health safety code violation she knew, but she recognized it near instantly. If the chipped countertop and the sink that most certainly didn’t run anymore didn’t give it away, the cupboards that hung open at odd angles did.

“A kitchen!” She exclaimed, excitement coursing through her. “Oh thank god, they’ve got to have something that hasn’t gone bad yet!” 

Still leaning over John’s fingers, Anna felt excitement swelling up through her. She barely noticed as he shifted her to one hand and began pawing through some of the open cabinets. Her gaze followed his hands as he shifted through their contents. 

It seemed to take hours. However, eventually, Anna caught sight of an unopened package and swatted John’s palm to get his attention. 

“There!”

John’s fingers closed around a packet clearly labeled MRE.

Anna couldn’t hold back a victorious: “yes!” as John placed his hand on the dirty counter for her to jump off, which she did with a crooked grin, cane in hand. She walked with an almost cocky air across the countertop, gaze shifting from the packages to the sink that looked deep enough for her to drown in. Some murky water puddled in it, easily large enough to be a swimming pool for her. It came right up to the edge, nearly spilling over the sides. 

Peering warily over the edge for a moment, Anna turned her attention to John, watching him rummage through the cupboard with a dexterity that surprised her. Sure, his movements were jerky and disjointed, and yes, his fingers did twitch a little too much as he grabbed a couple of packages and dropped them on the counter beside her, but those eyes… 

They were his without a doubt. 

“Thanks,” she told him with a crooked smile. Turning to face the packages at her side, Anna strode over to them, her excitement fading as reality once again reared its ugly head. The packages towered over her. Even the ones laying their sides were easily half her height. 

“Uhh… how’s this going to work?” She mumbled to herself, eyes scanning over the packages. There had to be some way for her to open them… right?

Biting her lip and backing up a few paces, Anna finally decided to give it a shot. Her hands closed around the packaging, giving it a sharp tug with most of her strength to no avail. 

_Shit._

She tugged harder, digging her heels into the counter’s surface. Her shoulders ached with the effort. Her grip was weak, and it only took a few seconds for her to lose her footing and fall flat on her back. 

_Oh, fucking hell—_

Standing, glaring at the wrapping, Anna tried to get a grasp on one of the lower corners, yanking on it as hard as she could manage. The material crinkled, taunting her. It refused to break, and try as she might to tear even a piece of it off, it stayed stuck. 

“Damn it…” She hissed under her breath, giving up for the moment. She sat on the counter, defeated, and turned her gaze to John. 

He wasn’t even trying to hide his smile. The second they made eye contact, he started giving his soft, huffing little laughs, and they only got louder, sounding more like barks when Anna scrunched up her face and glared at him. 

John was just watching her with a confused but almost entertained look on his face.

“You’re really just gonna stand there and watch me make a fool of myself?” Anna asked, a playful sort of annoyance in her voice. 

John huffed in response and rolled his eyes, giving a low, dry little groan before snatching up one of the packages. Even though his fingers were clumsy, he managed to rip it open easily enough. 

It looked about as appetizing as you would expect dry food to look after a year. It fell on the countertop with a dull thud. 

Anna’s face fell. 

_It’s a brick._

_A brick that happens to be my height._

She stepped forward. “Ugh, screw it,” she grumbled, reaching forward and grabbing the corner of the allegedly edible brick, “if I break my teeth, I break my teeth.” 

Her hands scraped across it to no avail. It felt like a brick. It had only been sitting there for a year, but as Anna worked to get a chunk of it to break off, she couldn’t help but think it had been there for centuries. It wouldn’t have surprised her. 

_Fucking hell._

In an act of sheer frustration, she slammed her candy cane down on the corner of the edible brick. 

A shower of crumbs scattered on the countertop under her feet, most of them no bigger than her fist. Panting a little, she gingerly snatched up one of the bigger pieces and sighed. 

“Heh, that’s kinda sad, to be honest. All that work just for a crumb? You’d think for such a high-end base, they’d leave us some food that wasn’t made of concrete?” Anna stalled, suddenly not wanting to eat the food in front of her. However, as she felt a sudden hunger pang, she decided to go for it, brought it to her mouth, and bit down.

Anna cringed as the dry, old food flooded her mouth and had to force herself to swallow, nearly gagging in the process. 

It’s either this or you starve. 

Brushing crumbs off her chin, ignoring the pasty texture clinging to the inside of her cheeks, Anna brought the crumb back up to her mouth and sighed. 

_Fuck it._

Managing to force herself to take another good bite of the dry, powdery food, Anna made her way to the sink and looked down at the water there. She was almost tempted to grab her flashlight and shine it into the puddle, just to see how deep it was, but thought better of it. 

_There’s no way I’m finding bottled water anytime soon, so…_

Steeling herself, Anna knelt and practically threw her head into the cold water, not caring how gross it might’ve been after all this time. Her hair fell into the grimy water, but she didn’t care, too occupied with taking a few good mouthfuls of it to wash the scratchy, dry feeling out of her throat. She pulled her head back up after a few moments to see John’s concerned gaze focused on her. 

She managed a laugh.“The food was dry…” She explained as she pushed her wet hair out of her eyes, snickering slightly at John. He looked so concerned, brow furrowed, head cocked slightly to the left. A little noise escaped his throat, somewhere between a grumble and a huff before he turned around and limped over to the entrance they’d come in through, sticking his head out into the open. 

_Checking to see if we’re being followed._

She realized. 

Anna gave a chuckle, leaning onto a nearby wall next to the sink. She brushed her hands against her sides, swiping off the crumbs left by the military rations before letting herself focus on what had happened. 

“I’m in a military base, in the middle of the apocalypse, hanging out with my zombie friend and eating old food while at a few inches tall.” She mumbled to herself, unable to keep her eyebrows from raising and a small, bemused smile from forming on her face. 

“What would Nick… and Steph… say…” 

Wait. 

“Oh…”

Nick and Steph.

“Oh no.”

They entered the base together.

“Oh god.”

They agreed to meet up in an hour.

“Oh fuck!” 

That was yesterday.

“Uh, John?” Anna shot up, making her way to the edge of the countertop. “We— W-We may have a problem.”


End file.
